


WK2: Armani Weekend

by Mice



Category: The Lone Gunmen (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, BDSM, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-09-08
Updated: 2004-09-08
Packaged: 2019-02-05 18:09:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 81,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12799578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mice/pseuds/Mice
Summary: Well Kept series: Doggett takes Byers to NYC to buy a suit and have a weekend on the town. Smut, angst, and complications ensue.





	1. Friday

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

Author's Notes: NYC beta and Doggett dialect coaching 

provided by Amazon X. Kinky stuff supervised by Mistress 

Lady Kate. Rae gave General Beta From Hell, and in such a 

wonderful way. Thanks to Colonel M for passing Doggett's 

Marine 'tude. In the XF universe, people have enough 

trouble. September 11 never happened here. The Manhattan 

skyline is as it was before that date. This is AU for the 

XF universe. Mulder wasn't dead when he got back, and he's 

medically retired from the FBI now. Scully was never 

pregnant.

 

ARMANI EXCHANGE

51ST STREET AND 5TH AVENUE, NEW YORK CITY

FRIDAY, LATE MORNING

 

Byers was nervous. Not the paranoid nervous he got when he 

was out funky poaching, nor the nervous of working a 

dangerous hack, nor even the nervous he got when he was 

horny and didn't want people to notice. No, this was the 

nervous of doing something he'd never done before. It 

wasn't a bad nervous, just slightly unsettling. He stared 

up at the building before him.

 

"You comin' in or what," Doggett asked. 

 

They hadn't really had the chance to see each other for 

anything but coffee or lunch since the month before, when 

they had their first intimate encounter. Both had been 

eager to get together again, and Doggett had suggested the 

weekend in New York, as he'd made a few promises to Byers 

before. The first thing on Doggett's agenda was buying 

Byers a new suit. Despite Doggett's promise, it had never 

been anything Byers had actually expected to happen, given 

the expense, but there they were.

 

Byers was wearing one of his better suits -- dark blue wool 

\-- but it was definitely more Sears bargain basement than 

something suitable for a weekend on the town. His hands 

were in his pockets and he felt uneasy. 

 

Doggett opened the door and held it for him, motioning with 

his head. "C'mon. We got an appointment."

 

Byers sighed, then passed through the door, and Doggett 

followed him in. "Somethin' wrong, Johnny?"

 

"I feel vastly under-dressed." Byers blushed. He looked 

around at all the impeccably dressed men in the store, 

sporting outrageously expensive suits with fine silk ties 

in subtle but powerfully masculine color combinations. 

Doggett was one of them. He wished he measured up to the 

standard being set for him. He felt rather like a poor 

relation, standing next to the rugged, handsome FBI agent.

 

"Well, that's why we're here. We're gonna take care of 

that. By the time we get to the show Sunday night, you're 

gonna look spectacular. Not that you don't look good right 

now," Doggett said, grinning. He ran the tips of his 

fingers down Byers' back. "But you're gonna look hot in 

your new suit." He rested his hand in the small of Byers' 

back and guided him into the building.

 

The touch sent an almost imperceptible tremor down Byers' 

spine. He wasn't given to displays of physical affection in 

public, particularly not with other men. The touch was 

small and intimate, but it was as much about their power 

game as it was about the physical contact itself. He knew 

that Doggett was laying subtle claim to him, letting him 

know who was in charge. He savored the discreet eroticism 

of it.

 

Doggett gave Byers a faint smile. Byers knew that Doggett 

was well aware of what he was doing to him. It was apparent 

that Doggett had plans for their first night in the City. 

He'd been slowly teasing Byers over the course of the day, 

and this was just the latest in a series of fairly subtle 

games. Byers wondered where it would all end up, hoping it 

would be as good as the first time.

 

A tall, elegantly handsome dark haired man, probably in his 

early 50s, approached them. "Ah, John, it's good to see you 

again!" His voice was faintly accented, with an Italian 

flavor to it.

 

"Sergio, how you been?" Doggett took the man's outstretched 

hand and shook it firmly. With a look to Byers, he said, 

"Johnny, this is Sergio Brentali, the sales manager. 

Sergio, John Byers."

 

Brentali looked Byers up and down with a practiced eye. 

"Quite well, thank you. And this is the gentleman who will 

be fitted today?"

 

Doggett nodded. "First time," he said.

 

Brentali smiled. "Well, Mr. Byers, I trust we can make this 

a delightful experience for you. A man's first Armani 

should be a memorable event." He turned to Doggett. "I know 

just the colors for him. Let's bring him to the fitting 

area, shall we?"

 

Doggett's hand returned to the small of Byers' back, 

directing him as the two followed Brentali to the large, 

mirrored room just off the sales floor. Byers looked around 

nervously. There was a couch, several chairs, and a round 

dias in the center of the room, like a small stage.

 

"Have a seat, John," Brentali said, motioning to the couch. 

He snapped his fingers and a young man appeared. "Ernesto, 

bring Mr. Doggett his espresso please. What will Mr. Byers 

be having?" The question was directed to Doggett.

 

"Cappuccino with cinnamon," Doggett said, easing back into 

the cushions of the couch. He'd apparently been paying far 

closer attention to him than Byers expected. Ernesto nodded 

and disappeared. 

 

An older man entered the room, his fingers covered with 

chalk. He had a tape measure draped over his neck, and a 

note pad in his pocket. He looked at Byers. "Come up to the 

dias, sir." He waved Byers up to stand in the center of the 

small raised area. Byers moved quietly in front of the man, 

who moved his body with firm hands to stand straight, then 

quickly measured him in all dimensions. It was over in 

moments, and the tailor stepped down, consulted with 

Brentali in whispers for a moment, then vanished.

 

"Come sit down, Johnny," Doggett said. He patted the couch 

cushion beside him. As Byers approached, Ernesto returned 

and handed Doggett an espresso and Byers a cappuccino. He 

vanished once again, not saying a word.

 

Byers took his place on the couch next to Doggett. "What's 

next?" he asked.

 

"The tailor's gonna get you some suits to try on. He'll 

bring back some shirts and stuff too, to go with them. I'll 

pick the colors and style I like on you. It'll be okay. 

Have some of that coffee." Doggett sipped his own espresso. 

"It's damn good here. All Italian stuff."

 

Byers nodded and sipped his cappuccino. It really was good. 

The cinnamon had been handled lightly, just enough without 

being either too delicate or overpowering. He closed his 

eyes and inhaled, taking in the sharp, rich scent. The 

small cup was warm between his hands, steadying some of his 

nervousness. The sales manager seemed to know Doggett 

fairly well, from what he could tell by their talk. He 

wondered exactly how well.

 

Brentali sat on the arm of the couch next to Doggett. "So 

how long are you in town, John? It's been a while."

 

"Just for the weekend," Doggett replied, sipping his 

espresso. "Gonna get some fancy food, catch a show, have a 

little fun on the town."

 

"Ah." Brentali smiled. "Which show will you be seeing? 

There are some very good ones playing right now."

 

"Just Cabaret. Old, but a decent musical."

 

Brentali nodded. "A fine choice. Predictable, but good. 

Just like you." He flashed Doggett a wicked grin.

 

"You wish you knew how good I was, Sergio." Doggett grinned 

back. He trailed the tips of his fingers slowly along the 

inseam of Byers' pants, pausing at his knee. Byers 

shivered. "And you know I'm not as predictable as you 

claim."

 

"What, have you gotten better since last time I saw you in 

action?" Brentali looked down at Doggett under lowered 

lids, a knowing smirk on his lips. He looked over at Byers, 

who shrank uneasily into the couch under the sharp, 

assessing gaze. "And you're right. This one's not your 

usual type at all. Rather more delicate and bookish than 

I'd have expected."

 

Byers blushed. This was verging into 'too much information' 

territory. Then again, information was his life. Over the 

past month, Byers had discovered that John Doggett kept his 

most private preferences and practices very close to his 

chest. He was aware that Doggett was a member of a BDSM 

club in New York, and one in D.C., whose memberships were 

not listed in any computer he had been able to hack. It 

wasn't something he'd been about to ask Langly's help for. 

The club's reputations, however, were spotless. Brentali 

was probably a member as well, he guessed.

 

"Rather handsome, though," Brentali continued, "in a 

'librarian next door' sort of way. He'll look exquisite in 

a double breasted two and four."

 

Doggett nodded, eyeing Byers and continuing to sip his 

espresso. "That's why I brought him to you." His fingers 

slid back up from Byers' knee toward his crotch along the 

seam of his pants, then moved away. 

 

The touch was light as a sable brush, and Byers quickly 

raised his cappuccino to his lips, hoping the cup and his 

hands concealed his deepening blush. He doubted anything 

was going to conceal what was happening in his pants, 

though. His heart was beating fast, and his breath 

quickened. He hadn't thought Doggett would tease him like 

this in such a public place, under the eyes of a man he 

didn't know. It felt both dangerous and subtly erotic, and 

he knew this was the effect Doggett was driving for. The 

sharp boundaries of his shyness kept him in line, and the 

erotic undertone kept him on the edge of arousal. He hoped 

he'd be able to calm himself before he had to try the suits 

on and let the tailor mark the pants for adjustments.

 

"You always did know how to make a guy look his best--" 

Doggett chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, "--under any 

circumstances."

 

"Charcoal grey, I think," Brentali said softly, now staring 

at Byers with open admiration. Byers felt like a moth 

pinned to a velvet covered specimen board. If Brentali 

leaned closer, he was sure he'd start sweating. "It would 

complement those magnificent blue eyes. With a chalk white 

pinstripe for slight contrast. The color and lines of the 

suit will accentuate the slim hips and waist." Brentali 

motioned with one hand, sketching a thin, elegant shape in 

the air. "Burgundy for the shirt and tie. It would be an 

understated elegance, and I think he'll look delectable in 

that style."

 

Doggett set his empty espresso cup on the tiny end table 

near the couch. Byers continued sipping his cappuccino, 

knowing that if he drank it too quickly, the caffeine rush 

would only make him jitter, and that was the last thing he 

needed right now. He wouldn't embarrass himself, or 

Doggett, in front of this man. He knew his social skills 

left something to be desired, but he also knew that Doggett 

expected him to be quiet and composed here. His uneasiness 

had to remain as private as possible, as did his arousal at 

the two men's interest.

 

"Your color choices are right on, but don't go gettin' any 

ideas, there, Sergio. You know I don't share." Doggett 

placed a hand possessively on Byers' knee. 

 

Byers closed his eyes and focused on the touch, using it to 

calm himself as much as he could. He was relieved by 

Doggett reasserting his claim on him, but he had to admit 

that the two men's vying interests were flattering. After a 

moment, he looked back up at the them.

 

Brentali sighed, but there was a smile on his face. "Some 

things never change, do they John?"

 

Doggett opened his mouth to answer, but remained silent as 

the tailor returned carrying several suits, and a pile of 

other clothing with him. He set them down on the dias and 

motioned to Byers. A moment later, Ernesto reappeared. 

Byers set his empty cappuccino cup down and approached the 

dias.

 

"Frederick," Brentali said, "show us the color range you've 

brought."

 

"Of course, sir," the tailor replied. "Up here, Mr. Byers," 

he said quietly, once again placing Byers where he wanted 

him on the raised platform. When Byers stilled, he held up 

each of the four suits he'd brought, each in a differing 

shade of charcoal grey, with chalk white pinstripes.

 

Doggett and Brentali sat on the couch now, side by side. 

"Ernesto," Brentali said, "please bring Mr. Doggett another 

espresso."

 

Ernesto vanished quickly, and Doggett and Brentali watched 

as the tailor held the suits up near Byers' face so the two 

men could consider the colors against his skin tone.

 

"Oh, oh, that one," Brentali said, indicating a fairly dark 

hue with a slight bluish undertone. There was a subtle note 

of arousal in his voice. "See how it accentuates those 

eyes, makes them appear bluer. Wouldn't you agree, John?"

 

Doggett nodded. "You always did have the best eye for color 

I ever met, Sergio."

 

The tailor handed the suit to Byers. 

 

"Go try that one on, Johnny," Doggett said. "Take the 

burgundy shirt and tie with you." He shooed Byers off the 

dias, and the tailor led the bearded man into one of the 

dressing rooms, carrying several items from the stack of 

other clothing with him.

 

Brentali leaned to Doggett's ear, speaking quietly and 

privately. "He seems rather well behaved, despite his... 

skittishness, and quite delightfully shy. Where on earth 

did you find him?"

 

Ernesto returned, handed Doggett his espresso, and vanished 

as silently as he'd arrived.

 

"Friend of a friend," Doggett said. "He and a couple of his 

pals do a little research for me from time to time. They're 

damn good. They can find just about anything if they've got 

a good reason for it."

 

"A research maven? Intelligent as well as handsome; how 

unusual. Is he obedient?"

 

"Likes to struggle a little, but only enough to make things 

interesting. He likes it too much to actually disobey."

 

Brentali arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure you don't want to 

trade him for something more your type? I know a very 

muscular young Marine who's much more your usual style."

 

Doggett shook his head. "Why, because Johnny's your type? 

You old letch." He laughed quietly. "Nah. Nobody owns him. 

No contract to trade you, no matter how much you whine." 

Byers would never forgive him if he even considered such a 

thing, though teasing Brentali amused him. It wasn't often 

he had the upper hand where the suave Italian was 

concerned. "Besides, he doesn't trust people very easy, and 

he doesn't know you. Wouldn't be willing to play with a 

stranger, and I won't do that to him."

 

"Your consideration is commendable, John. I've always 

appreciated your grace as a Dom. But if you bring him to 

the club for a scene while you're in town, I'd love to 

watch. I imagine he's quite the sensitive type, very 

sensual under that demure exterior. He rather reminds me of 

a young colt." He sighed. "Such lovely, delicate skin. I'll 

wager he burns like redhead, poor thing. At any rate, you 

must let me know." He laid a hand on Doggett's shoulder and 

squeezed.

 

Doggett chuckled again. "No scenes this time. I'm still 

breaking him in. If I bring him to the club, it'll be 

strictly to watch."

 

The tailor emerged from the dressing area, leading Byers 

back to the dias. Doggett's breath caught at the sight. 

Brentali sighed, and held one thin hand over his mouth.

 

"Oh, my," Brentali whispered, eyes alight. "He does clean 

up well. That atrocious thing he was wearing when you 

brought him in concealed so much. Are you sure you're not 

willing to share?"

 

"Shit, no," Doggett muttered, excited. "You think I'm gonna 

share that? I'm no fool." He was already imagining what he 

wanted to do to Byers when he got him back to the hotel 

after dinner the next day -- and it involved leather wrist 

restraints, that fancy suit, and Byers' hot mouth around 

his shaft. He had to deliberately shake off the fantasy in 

order to concentrate on business.

 

Byers stood, shifting as the men watched him with predatory 

expressions. Doggett watched him looking at himself in the 

mirrors around the room. Byers appeared very pleased with 

himself. Doggett couldn't blame him. The burgundy brought 

out the color in his skin, making him look rather less like 

he spent most of his life indoors, and the grey of the suit 

drew attention to his eyes, making them seem more intensely 

blue than usual. The jacket's cut gave the illusion of a 

broader chest and shoulders, and a more slender waist and 

hips. Doggett tried to ignore the effect it was having on 

him.

 

"I'm willing to make you a serious offer if you ever get 

tired of him," Brentali muttered into Doggett's ear.

 

Doggett shook his head and pinned a hard gaze on his old 

friend. "He's my new toy; I ain't hardly had time to enjoy 

him yet. Back off, Sergio." The dicker and tease was part 

of the game, but he found himself feeling very possessive 

of Byers, and the tone of his voice betrayed him. The 

hacker was his, and while it wasn't entirely true that he 

never shared, it was certainly far too early for anything 

of the sort. Brentali was pushing just a bit too hard for 

his taste at the moment.

 

Brentali nodded. "Of course, John. You know I have the 

greatest respect for you." The reply was polite and 

friendly, but the heat remained in his eyes. 

 

Doggett couldn't fault him for it; he felt that same heat 

himself. He'd been right when he guessed that Byers would 

turn heads. Brentali was a man of exacting tastes who 

preferred shy, slender, intellectual types. If he hadn't 

sat up and taken notice, Doggett would have checked his 

pulse and called an ambulance.

 

Byers looked back at Doggett, who made a circular motion 

with his finger. Byers turned slowly, letting Doggett and 

Brentali see him from all angles, finally returning to face 

front. The look in Brentali's eyes was a mix of jealousy 

and desire, leaving Byers feeling pleased yet almost naked 

at the stranger's scrutiny. Doggett's gaze was possessive, 

and he nodded to the tailor.

 

"Please hold still for a few moments, Mr. Byers," the 

tailor said. With practiced, skillful hands, he tugged at 

the cloth, tightening here and there, making obscure marks 

in chalk that Byers knew would be transformed into 

perfectly fitting seams in the pants and jacket. The man's 

touch was at once intimate and professionally distant, 

distracting but stimulating in his heightened state of 

sensitivity.

 

Considering the reaction he was getting from Doggett and 

Brentali, he couldn't wait to try the suit on when it fit 

properly. Byers thought he'd never looked so good in his 

life, and couldn't wait to see himself in the suit when it 

was properly tailored. He felt a rush of power and 

excitement within the vulnerable space he inhabited. He 

could feel the heat of Doggett and Brentali's eyes on him, 

the breathless depth of their interest, and the subtle 

sexual tension between the two as they sat on the couch 

playing their own power game. The silk against his skin 

added to the sensuality of the moment, and he could feel 

the pace of his heart pick up again. The power of the 

vulnerability and exposure he felt as they watched him, 

wanting him, was intense and arousing. He hoped the jacket 

would preserve his modesty to some extent.

 

"Please remove the jacket, Mr. Byers," the tailor said. So 

much for his modesty. Byers swallowed and took off the 

jacket, draping it over one arm so the men could see the 

waistline of the pants as the tailor marked them. His pants 

were slightly loose, but not quite enough to conceal his 

arousal. He took a deep breath as Doggett and Brentali's 

eyes focused on his crotch, both of them attempting to hide 

their own reactions to him. 

 

"Will this be suitable, Mr. Brentali?" the tailor asked as 

he finished.

 

"Turn around again, Johnny," Doggett ordered. 

 

Byers took a deep breath and turned in a slow circle where 

he stood. He knew the two men were looking at more than 

just the suit. He caught a glimpse of himself from the side 

in one of the mirrors, only to see his erection standing 

out slightly from that angle. He blushed but did his best 

to keep a straight face and continue standing tall as he 

finished his turn. He could feel the pulse pounding in his 

throat from his embarrassment.

 

"Excellent, Frederick," Brentali said. "You may take him 

back to the dressing room and begin work on the tailoring 

when Mr. Byers is dressed again."

 

"Yes, sir," the tailor replied, and once again led Byers to 

the dressing area. Byers could still feel the men's eyes on 

him. It excited him, and he smiled in satisfaction once his 

back was to them.

 

Brentali sighed and shook his head. "I hope you'll at least 

bring him along to the club this evening for a few drinks 

and some dinner. He moves a little awkwardly sometimes, but 

he looks very trainable."

 

"And I suppose you wanna be the guy to train him in the 

social graces, eh, Sergio?" Doggett laughed.

 

"Well, if you ever require my assistance--"

 

Doggett grinned. "Oh, no. I got this one totally in hand, 

pal. But I might bring him by the club for a drink later, 

just so you can stare at him some more."

 

Brentali laughed and shook his head. "John, you're a cruel, 

cruel man."

 

"That's why they love me," Doggett said, smirking.

 

Both shifted their attention as Byers returned, now clad in 

his old blue suit. He stopped and stood near Doggett to one 

side of the couch. Doggett and Brentali stood, and Doggett 

placed a hand on Byers' shoulder, emphasizing his 

possession to Brentali. "So when do we come by to pick it 

up?" Doggett asked.

 

"Tomorrow afternoon, after 3 p.m.," Brentali said. "We'll 

do the final fitting then. Shirt, tie, socks and all the 

other necessary accoutrements will be waiting with it." The 

two shook hands. "Good to see you again, John. I look 

forward to seeing you again soon."

 

Doggett nodded. "Soon enough." He looked to Byers. "Let's 

go get you some shoes to go with that thing," he said, 

squeezing Byers' shoulder.

 

CAFE WONG FU'S

NOON

 

Doggett brought Byers to a Chinese place, and they sat in a 

secluded booth near the back. The clientele was largely 

Asian, which bode well for the food. With a quiet sigh, 

Byers settled into the padded bench seat and let himself 

relax. Doggett slid in next to him where they could both 

watch the door. The waiter brought tea and menus.

 

Byers looked at Doggett. Doggett gazed back.

 

"You can pour for us," he said. 

 

Byers righted the tiny, thick ceramic cups and poured the 

oolong, setting Doggett's cup before him gently. He paused, 

waiting for Doggett to drink first. Doggett looked through 

the menu for several minutes before he picked up the cup. 

Sipping, he nodded. Byers took his own cup and sipped, then 

sighed happily. 

 

"What do you want?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers looked through the menu. Most of the items looked 

good. He thought for a few moments. "Ginger beef, I think."

 

Doggett nodded. The waiter returned, and Doggett ordered, 

getting crispy duck for himself. Once they were alone 

again, he looked over at Byers.

 

"Sergio wanted you bad," he said.

 

"I was getting that impression," Byers said quietly.

 

"Offered to trade me a Marine for you." There was 

enthusiasm in Doggett's voice.

 

Byers blinked. "What? You're kidding, aren't you?"

 

"I never kid about that kinda deal, Johnny." Doggett smiled 

slightly, trying not to laugh.

 

"Well, you said no, right?"

 

Doggett didn't reply. 

 

Byers' eyes got bigger with the lengthening silence. 

"Right?" he asked again, anxious. He leaned toward Doggett.

 

Doggett chuckled. "Well, maybe I'd'a considered it if he 

offered me two of 'em."

 

Byers snorted. "Jack!"

 

"You don't honestly believe I'd swap you over to some guy 

you don't know, do ya?"

 

Byers closed his eyes and took a breath. "I hope you 

wouldn't offer to trade me to anyone. This isn't that kind 

of arrangement." He looked back at Doggett, who was still 

chuckling silently.

 

"I know. But I had you goin', didn't I?" One hand under the 

table, he traced his fingers along the edge of Byers' 

kneecap.

 

"Feels good," Byers whispered.

 

Doggett's fingers strayed higher, moving up Byers' thigh. 

"I bet this'll feel even better."

 

Byers sat still, feeling the fingers steal higher along the 

inside of his thigh. They didn't stop in a safe place 

though, but continued until they found his dick lying soft 

in his lap. It didn't stay that way under Doggett's hand. 

He had to work to control his breathing.

 

"What do you--" Byers whispered sharply.

 

Doggett silenced him with a glance. He sat sipping tea as 

though nothing was happening. With one last tip, he drained 

his cup, then sat it on the table.

 

"Pour me another cup of tea."

 

"Yes, Sir." Byers picked up the pot, but it was a struggle 

to keep his hands steady with Doggett's fingers caressing 

and teasing him. He managed not to spill the hot liquid, 

then set the pot down quickly.

 

Doggett was tracing agonizingly slow lines up and down the 

length of his hardening cock. He didn't remove his hand 

from Byers' lap when the waiter came to set the dishes of 

food down, but thanked the man and picked up a pair of 

chopsticks with his free hand and began his meal, dipping 

the duck tidbits delicately into the plum sauce.

 

Byers squirmed.

 

"You gonna eat?" His hand moved up Byers' shaft and pinched 

the head with a firm but gentle squeeze, then slid back 

down toward his balls. Byers suppressed a whimper. "You 

really should. You're gonna need your strength for later."

 

Byers tried to collect himself, but it wasn't working. He 

picked up his chopsticks and started on his ginger beef, 

but after getting a couple of slices to his mouth, his 

concentration was so shot that a piece of onion went 

sailing across the booth to fall into the seat opposite 

them. He watched in dismay as it hit with a wet 'thup.'

 

Doggett frowned. "Really, Johnny, you're being very 

sloppy." He slid Byers' zipper down. "Just relax and quit 

throwin' your food around." He picked up his tea and sipped 

again, finishing his second small cup. "Another cup?" He 

held the cup out to Byers, and slid his fingers inside the 

open fly of his pants.

 

Byers managed to pour without mishap, but wasn't able to 

control the chopsticks enough to get another bite. 

Doggett's fingers were sliding along bare, hot flesh now, 

and he braced his back against the seat, head leaning into 

the cushioning, hands gripping the edge of the seat. He 

spread his legs to allow Doggett easier access to him, 

hating himself for loving it so much.

 

"You okay, Johnny?" Doggett looked him the eyes, a smile on 

his face. "Here, let me help you out a little." He picked 

up some of the ginger beef and held it to Byers' lips. 

 

Byers gratefully opened his mouth and let Doggett feed him, 

his Master's other hand now stroking him softly. "Thank 

you, Sir," he said, quiet and subdued. The beef was tender 

and perfectly done, as much a delight to his tongue as 

Doggett's hand was to his cock.

 

Byers watched Doggett smile he watched him. He could feel 

his face softening into pleasure as he became more and more 

aroused. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment, 

sharing the heat and intimacy of Doggett's tease. Byers bit 

his lower lip, closing his eyes for a moment, then turning 

his face to look back at Doggett. He could see the pleasure 

on Doggett's face as he held the hot silk of Byers' 

erection in his hand. Byers tried to control the sound of 

his deepening breath and the tiny, helpless movements of 

his hips, but couldn't. He could see that Doggett was 

aroused as well, but the man seemed in perfect control of 

himself. On one level, he envied that control while on 

another, deeper level, he loved the loss of his own.

 

Byers took a deep breath, trying to focus, but the hand 

caressing his shaft dominated his attention. Doggett 

continued to feed him and stroke him languidly, he didn't 

know how long, until he was close to orgasm. He had no idea 

if he could keep himself still, keep from calling out if he 

came, but mercifully -- or perhaps not so mercifully -- 

Doggett's hand left his cock and zipped his pants up. One 

soft stroke through the cloth, and Doggett had both hands 

on the table again.

 

Byers was painfully hard, his balls tight and aching, not 

sure whether he should be miserably frustrated or eternally 

grateful for not being compelled to have a public orgasm in 

a crowded restaurant at lunch. He decided on a combination 

of both, taking slow, deep breaths to quell the pressure in 

his body. Doggett offered him another bite of the 

delicately spiced beef, and he took it gratefully.

 

It wasn't long before he was able to manage his own 

chopsticks again, and he finished his lunch quickly. They 

lingered over tea and iced lychee for dessert.

 

"So what are we doing this afternoon," Byers asked.

 

"I thought we'd go by the hotel so we can get changed into 

something a little less stiff than these suits, and we 

could go take a walk in Central Park. Maybe I'll take you 

through the Guggenheim. Unless you'd like The Cloisters 

more."

 

Byers smiled. "Tough choice. But you know I'm more 

comfortable in a suit than anything else, Jack."

 

"Yeah, but taking a walk in the park in a suit? In the 

summer? Come on, Johnny, loosen up a little. I know what I 

want you to wear anyway."

 

"Oh. In that case, I think I can be flexible." Byers 

nibbled a lychee, playing with the fleshy texture of the 

fruit in his mouth. 

 

Doggett grinned. "I figured." He watched Byers 

thoughtfully.

 

Byers took a lychee on the end of his spoon and began 

licking and sucking it in a terribly suggestive way. If 

Doggett could tease him, he could certainly return the 

favor. 

 

Byers watched Doggett watching his tongue moving on the 

rounded shape. Doggett's eyes widened, and Byers felt a 

surge of pleasure at being able to tweak the man just a 

bit.

 

"If you don't stop doin' that right now, Johnny," Doggett 

growled, "I won't be responsible when your pants are around 

your ankles and you're leaned over this table with my dick 

in your ass." There was a definite hint in his Master's 

tone that suggested he had pushed things almost too far.

 

Byers sucked the lychee into his mouth and swallowed it 

quickly. That wasn't quite the kind of scene he wanted to 

participate in. Tables, yes. Pants around his ankles, even 

better. But not during lunch rush at a Chinese restaurant. 

"Sorry, Sir." He tried to put enough contrition into his 

voice, but wasn't sure he was succeeding. He smothered a 

chuckle, squelching the smile that almost curved his lips.

 

Doggett snorted. "Yeah, I bet. You're just beggin' to get 

your ass spanked when we get back to the hotel, aren't 

you?"

 

"No, Sir. Not at all." He shook his head emphatically. It 

was a lie, and both of them knew it.

 

Doggett glowered at Byers, obviously thinking evil 

thoughts. The waiter brought them the check. Taking the 

small leather folder, Doggett handed it to Byers. "You're 

handling this one."

 

Byers blinked. Doggett had assured him that the weekend 

would be paid for. He hadn't brought much in cash, and 

there was less than fifty dollars in his checking account. 

There was never much more than that, really; he and the 

guys were almost always broke. He took the bill in his hand 

and looked. Nearly twenty five dollars. The duck had been 

pricey. He took a deep breath. With a suitable tip, that 

would be all but about three dollars of what he had on him. 

This wasn't quite the result he'd hoped for from his tease, 

but it was ample proof that he'd blown his advantage. He'd 

have to be far more subtle the next time he tried playing 

games with his Master. Silently, he pulled his wallet from 

his pocket and paid the waiter. He hoped this would be the 

only punishment he received.

 

"Keep the change," Doggett told the man. Byers looked up at 

him and swallowed, his face wrinkled with anxiety. "Come 

on," Doggett said, "we're going back to the hotel." He 

rose, and Byers got up and followed him.

 

Doggett hailed a cab and they returned to the hotel in 

silence. Neither of them was going to discuss the situation 

where anyone would overhear. It was a mercy, as far as 

Byers was concerned. He wondered what would happen when 

they arrived.

 

PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL

ROOM 1246

EARLY AFTERNOON

 

The elevator carried them to the 12th floor, and Doggett led 

him to their room. It was a large, comfortable suite with a 

king sized bed, a dining area and living space, and a 

lavishly appointed bathroom. They had already unpacked 

their suitcases into the dresser and closet provided.

 

Doggett pointed to the couch. "Sit down," he ordered.

 

Byers obeyed, seating himself quickly and fixing his 

attention on the man who stood over him.

 

"You know why I had to do that." Doggett crossed his arms 

as he looked down at his contrite companion.

 

"Yes, Sir." Byers nodded.

 

"You tell me why I did that."

 

"I was out of line, Sir. I challenged your authority."

 

Doggett nodded. "And you understand the seriousness of that 

challenge, and why I couldn't let it pass."

 

"Yes, Sir," Byers said, his voice quiet. There was no hint 

of his earlier tease. The nature of the punishment had been 

something of a shock, but it hadn't been outside their 

negotiated boundaries.

 

"You got any cash left after that stunt?"

 

Byers looked down at the floor. "No, Sir."

 

"Then don't make me do that again. Next time, you'll be 

washin' dishes."

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

Doggett pulled out his wallet and held out a fifty to 

Byers. "This is for emergencies. You never know what might 

happen, and I won't have you here broke if you need to get 

a cab or somethin' and I'm not with you."

 

"Thank you, Sir." Byers reached out gingerly and accepted 

the bill. He put it in his wallet and waited.

 

"C'mere." Doggett said, warmth returning to his voice as he 

motioned for Byers to rise and approach him.

 

Byers got to his feet, wondering what would come next. He 

took a step toward Doggett. His Master's hands slid around 

his waist, surprisingly gentle under the circumstances. 

Doggett drew him into a silken embrace, then lowered his 

lips to Byers' mouth. He responded gratefully, closing his 

eyes and wrapping his arms around the man's broad 

shoulders. The agent slid his hands down and caressed the 

curves of Byers' ass, bringing him close and pressing his 

hips into Byers' groin. Byers drew a sharp breath as 

Doggett's tongue opened his lips. He let the warm, wet 

tongue caress his own, relinquishing control completely.

 

It was a deep, satisfying kiss. 

 

"Let's get ready to go to the park," Doggett said softly, 

still holding Byers close. Byers nodded, though he would 

far rather that they spent time together there in the room 

for a while first. After the way Doggett had been teasing 

him earlier, he wanted the body contact, wanted restraints, 

wanted Doggett's hands on his sides, back, and chest. He 

wanted slaps, caresses, arousal, and release. He wouldn't 

ask. He knew that it wouldn't be granted. Not yet.

 

Doggett released him and they entered the bedroom. "Get 

undressed," Doggett said. He loosened his tie, and Doggett 

watched. "Slow, so I can enjoy it."

 

"Yes, Sir." He drew out his motions, moving smoothly. 

Doggett nodded his approval as Byers unbuttoned his shirt, 

languid and deliberate. Byers began to warm to the idea, 

knowing he was being given a chance to be the tease again, 

but under orders this time, kept to his proper place. 

 

He took advantage of the situation, watching his Master's 

eyes as they moved over his body appreciatively. He 

revealed his skin a little at a time, sliding his fingers 

over himself, gratified as Doggett's pupils dilated and he 

began to breathe more quickly. His own breath quickened as 

he exposed more of himself to the man's hungry gaze, 

dropping his tie on the bed, opening his shirt, removing 

it, and slipping his t-shirt over his head with a slow, 

sinuous movement.

 

"Stay still, just like that," Doggett ordered softly, as 

Byers' arms were extended over his head to pull the t-shirt 

all the way off, feet slightly apart. His face, which had 

been briefly covered by the t-shirt, had again been 

revealed, hair tousled, but his arms were still tangled in 

the cloth. Doggett approached him and ran his fingers 

delicately over Byers' flesh. "Don't move," he whispered 

into Byers' ear.

 

The feel of his Master's fingers, the soft pads of their 

tips, and the short nails, the hiss of warm breath in his 

ear, raised goosebumps on his skin and he shivered. His 

nipples stiffened, an erection growing in his pants. He 

held himself motionless, accepting the powerful touch, arms 

restrained, crossed above his head by his twisted shirt. 

Doggett moved his elbows apart so that he was in an open, 

exposed position. Byers kept them where they had been set, 

and Doggett placed a soft kiss on his mouth, then trailed 

his lips and the tip of his tongue down Byers' throat, 

along his adam's apple, and down to the hollow where his 

throat met the top of his ribcage.

 

Byers sighed. "Please," he breathed.

 

Doggett's mouth moved slowly, heated breath on his skin, 

following the line of his clavicle to the juncture of 

muscles at the top of his shoulder. A kiss, a nip, and his 

Master's mouth moved on. Byers moaned quietly, letting go 

of any expectation and control.

 

Doggett felt Byers' submission, felt the eager compliance 

and the keen response to his mouth's ministrations. He held 

Byers' waist in his hands, bracing him against the slightly 

awkward, unbalanced position in which he'd stopped the 

man's striptease. For this, no restraints were necessary. 

His word was bondage enough. Byers would not move until 

Doggett moved him, with hand or voice. He reveled in the 

power of it, aroused by his sub's arousal and his control 

over the slender man. His obedience was heady, like dark, 

smoky bourbon.

 

Trailing his tongue down Byers' chest, he kissed one peaked 

nipple. Byers gave a shallow gasp. Doggett nipped, and 

Byers groaned, his head rolling back, eyes closing. He 

sucked the other nipple hard and Byers groaned again, 

louder.

 

"You're so hot, Johnny," Doggett told him, his voice smooth 

as black silk. "When you obey, you get rewarded." He slid 

his hands down to Byers' belt and unbuckled it. "You know 

that's what you really want. You want me to touch you. You 

want me to strip you. You want me to hold you down and fuck 

you." He took a deep breath as he saw Byers react 

physically to his words; breath quickening, the pulse point 

at his throat throbbing, his swollen shaft rising under the 

cloth of his pants. He could hear Byers' heart pounding as 

he opened the man's fly and slid his pants and boxers down 

his hips, along his legs to his ankles.

 

Released from its shelter, Byers' cock was purple, 

twitching with his fast pulse. Doggett inhaled, savoring 

the musk of his arousal, then nuzzled the soft, wiry curls 

of his pubic hair. 

 

"Ohhhhhhh..." The sound of need in Byers' voice shot 

through him. The sight and scent of the man went straight 

to his own shaft. He pulled Byers' shoes off one at a time, 

then slid off the socks, followed quickly by the pants and 

boxers. He tossed them aside, then stood, bracing Byers' 

hips with his hands as he gazed at the shy man's nudity, 

arms tangled above his head in his white t-shirt. 

 

He wished he'd brought a camera, but knew that there could 

never be photos. That kind of evidence could compromise 

both of them. He drank in the tone of Byers' skin in the 

early afternoon light through the bedroom window, the curve 

of his body as it arched from hips and hard shaft upward to 

trapped arms, the tilt of his head, the sensual open lips 

and closed eyes. He moved away from Byers for a moment, 

watching to make sure the man's balance was steady, then 

shed his own clothes quickly. A moment later, he had a hand 

on Byers' waist again, the other caressing his own hard 

rod. 

 

Doggett's breathing roughened as he watched Byers, listened 

to the soft sound of flesh on flesh as he stroked himself. 

Byers opened his eyes to watch, and Doggett stared at his 

sub's exposed body, the satiny head of his own thick cock 

jerking in a sharp tempo. Doggett could see that Byers 

wanted to move, but was restraining himself. The want in 

Byers' eyes was astonishing and deep. 

 

"You love this, don't you?" Doggett said. His low baritone 

was rough and harsh, his breath coming fast. "You love to 

see me jerking off, knowing you're what turns me on. Let me 

tell you, Johnny, you do turn me on. Seein' you like this, 

all hard and hot and wanting it so much, knowing you can't 

have it unless I give it to you, that turns me on. That 

gives me a rush."

 

Doggett jerked himself faster, enjoying the look of lust 

and want on Byers' face. "Get on your knees," he ordered. 

Byers slipped to the floor, mouth open, obviously hoping to 

suck him. The hacker kept his tired, shaking arms above his 

head, and Doggett took his wrists in his empty hand, 

pressing them down behind Byers' neck. Byers sighed with 

relief as the stress in his arms was eased. He looked up at 

Doggett, then licked his lips and opened his mouth again, 

begging silently.

 

Doggett pulled out a condom packet from the bedside drawer 

and contemplated it briefly, but didn't open it. He set it 

down on the stand. Byers still didn't trust him enough to 

do anything without latex, but from the glaze in the man's 

eyes, he'd have to be reminded of it.

 

"No, Johnny, you don't get to suck me yet. You don't get to 

do anything except kneel there. Don't try to move." He 

stroked himself hard a few times, then squeezed, and rubbed 

the head of his cock on Byers' beard, leaving a thick, 

clear thread of pre-come along his furry chin, glistening 

just under his lower lip. He moaned at the feel of it, and 

Byers whimpered, fighting to keep still, obviously 

resisting with all his power the urge to lick the liquid, 

and Doggett's head that whispered a torment along his lip, 

without permission.

 

Doggett toed Byers' knees wide apart, stroking himself hard 

again, and watched as the man's throbbing shaft was exposed 

to his full view. "You're beautiful, Johnny," he gasped, 

"god." Taking Byers' hair in one hand, he stroked his balls 

then pumped his shaft hard and fast as he slid the head of 

it under Byers' chin. The sensation of the soft edge of 

Byers' beard and the slight prickle of stubble just behind 

it sent him over the edge, and he shot hot come all over 

Byers' neck, shoulders and chest. With a shout and a 

shudder, he kept jerking, kept coming, and the creamy 

liquid spattered Byers' chest and started dripping down his 

abdomen.

 

They cried out together, Doggett grunting through gritted 

teeth as his orgasm shook his body. Byers was moaning, 

desperate with desire. 

 

The sticky wet heat of his Master's come on his body, and 

the musky male scent of it was pushing Byers near the 

brink. He closed his eyes, hoping that Doggett would let 

him suck his cock clean, but nothing happened. He opened 

his eyes again, and looked up at his Master.

 

"Sir?" he panted.

 

"Go take a shower," Doggett said, still breathing heavily. 

He released Byers' hair with a caress. "You don't get to 

taste my come, and you don't get to make yourself come 

either. Just clean up and I want you right back. I'll have 

your clothes ready for you when you're done."

 

Byers slumped, stifling a groan. "Yes, Sir," he said, his 

voice barely controlled. "Thank you, Sir." This had been 

much more exquisitely cruel than the tease at the 

restaurant. The edge was delicious, and far too close, but 

he wouldn't disobey the command. He had no desire to 

discover what other punishments Doggett might have in his 

arsenal for such a blatant violation. 

 

Gratefully, he pulled the t-shirt off his arms and 

stretched carefully, moving so he wouldn't stiffen up and 

ache later. He stood, still hard and agonizingly close to 

orgasm, and entered the bathroom. He turned on the water 

and adjusted the temperature, then stepped into the shower, 

sighing. 

 

For a few moments, he let the hard needles of water beat 

into his shoulders, relaxing his tight muscles. The 

stimulation of the falling water would have been enough to 

take him over the edge if he stood under it in the right 

place, but orders were orders, and he simply soaped himself 

 

and washed Doggett's come off his body. His erection was 

fading, but slowly, and he rubbed his face with the palms 

of his hands, letting the water pound into his hair. 

 

At least the walk in the park might take his mind off the 

intense teases he'd been subjected to today. He decided he 

was more in the mood for The Cloisters than the Guggenheim. 

The intricacy and jeweled complexity of medieval art housed 

in replicas of French monastery cloisters might be more 

soothing than the modern art collection of the great white 

spiral building.

 

He returned to the bedroom, his hips still wrapped in the 

white hotel towel. Doggett had laid out clothes for him. 

Faded blue jeans, a polo shirt in royal blue, boxers, socks 

and sneakers. He never felt quite right dressed in clothes 

like that, though he owned them. He'd been wearing suits 

since he was just a kid. They felt natural, safe. These 

clothes always felt too informal and revealing, not just of 

his body, but of things within him that he preferred to 

guard carefully. He knew it was irrational, but he felt 

that clothes like these opened a sort of window into him, 

allowing an unintentional glimpse at something slightly too 

vulnerable and real. Standing by the bed, he waited for 

Doggett's permission to dress.

 

Doggett was already clothed, also in faded jeans, with a 

dark green t-shirt. "Drop the towel and come here," he 

said.

 

Byers hoped he wasn't in for another tease so soon. Not 

that they weren't incredibly sensual, but the frustration 

level was getting hard to withstand. He let the towel slide 

from his hips, leaving him nude, and walked over to stand 

before his Master. 

 

Doggett picked up a tube off the dresser and opened it. 

"Sunscreen," he said. "You won't be any fun if you get all 

burnt up." Byers looked over at the short sleeved shirt he 

was to wear, and extended a hand for a squirt of the cream. 

"Just your face. I'll do the rest," Doggett said. He put a 

small dab in Byers' palm, then began applying cream to the 

slender man's body. 

 

Byers enjoyed the feeling of the sunscreen being massaged 

and stroked into his skin. Doggett's hands were firm, 

gentle, and thorough, from the base of his beard and the 

back of his neck to halfway down his torso, and along his 

arms to the tips of his fingers. This, combined with the 

massage of the water in the shower, was soothing and 

restful. He sighed happily, smiling. It was sensual without 

being overtly erotic, and allowed him his submissive space 

without a need for Doggett to be aggressive or dominant in 

a showy way. In that moment it was exactly what he needed.

 

"Don't forget your ears," Doggett said. 

 

"Yes, Sir." Byers smeared a little sunscreen on them and 

rubbed it in until the cream disappeared. It was apparent 

that he'd been forgiven for his earlier disobedience, and 

he was glad.

 

Doggett examined Byers, running a hand along his skin, 

looking for missed spots. Not finding any, he nodded, 

satisfied. "You can get dressed now." 

 

He sat on the bed, watching Byers put the clothing on. The 

royal blue of the shirt deepened the clear blue of Byers' 

eyes. He wasn't especially handsome by ordinary standards, 

but Byers' eyes were one of his best features, and Doggett 

liked them. They were expressive eyes; usually thoughtful 

and a bit solemn, reflecting the man's nature, but he'd 

also seen sparks of humor and mischief in them. He found 

that he enjoyed seeing that in Byers. 

 

The faded jeans revealed the curves of Byers' ass, almost 

always hidden under the man's ever-present suit jacket. 

Byers' posture revealed some discomfort with the clothing, 

but he looked good with the shirt hugging his chest and 

abdomen and the jeans tracing the thin lines of his hips 

and legs. Normally Doggett would have found Byers a little 

too thin, a little too short, a little too shy -- and a lot 

too paranoid. He wasn't sure he understood his attraction 

to the hacker, which had grown since their first encounter. 

It wasn't just the man's reactions and responses to the 

game, though those would be reason enough to play with him 

when he was available. There was more to it than that. 

 

Maybe it was the spark of dry wit that Byers let show from 

time to time, or his keen intelligence. Perhaps it was 

those beautiful eyes, or the softness of the man's hair and 

beard. Then again, it might have been a simple unconscious 

desire for some variety. Whatever it was, he let himself 

enjoy it as he watched Byers finish dressing. He looked 

forward to their first night together.

 

"Does it please you, Sir?" Byers asked when he had 

transferred his wallet from his suit pocket to the front 

pocket of his jeans.

 

Doggett nodded. "Yeah. You look real good." He held out a 

hand to Byers. "C'mere."

 

Byers approached, taking the proffered hand. Doggett stood 

and pulled Byers close, wrapping his arms around him. Byers 

returned the hug, and they stood for a few moments in 

silence, holding each other, enjoying each other's touch. 

With a quiet breath, Doggett released the man and stepped 

back.

 

"Did you decide where you wanted to go after the park?"

 

Byers nodded. "I'm in the mood for The Cloisters, I think."

 

"Sounds good to me. It's okay to call me Jack for the rest 

of the afternoon. I think I want to walk in the park and do 

The Cloisters without having to keep up the game. After 

that, we'll see."

 

Byers nodded. "Thanks, Jack. Anything else we need to do 

before we leave?"

 

"Your shoulders okay?"

 

"Yeah. The shower, and the massage when you put on the 

sunscreen took out all the knots."

 

"Good. Let's go, then."

 

CENTRAL PARK

MID-AFTERNOON

 

The park was bright in the afternoon sun. The day was hot 

but hadn't yet reached the full oppressiveness of New 

York's humid summer suffocation. A light breeze played 

through the trees. It was actually very good weather, and 

Doggett was enjoying himself immensely. Byers was wearing 

sunglasses, his eyes more used to indoor lighting. They 

looked good on him, Doggett thought. Actually, a lot of 

things looked good on Byers, though he doubted the younger 

man would believe it.

 

"You doin' okay with the weekend so far?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers smiled. "I think your teasing is going to be the 

death of me," he said.

 

Doggett laughed. "You don't look like you're anywhere near 

dropping dead, Johnny. Don't even try to tell me you don't 

like it. Not when you beg so well."

 

Byers blushed, still smiling. "Okay, so I like it. I'm 

still looking forward to getting some relief tonight." He 

looked at Doggett as they walked. "I mean, there will be 

some relief tonight, won't there?"

 

"Well, it was on my agenda at some point."

 

"You're a hard man, Jack," Byers said, his eyes alight. He 

looked down at Doggett's crotch.

 

Doggett laughed. "That's why you want it so much."

 

"I do, I do," Byers said quietly, grinning. "You're just 

not giving it to me. Cock tease."

 

"You wouldn't say that if I had you on your knees, boy."

 

Byers snorted. "I wouldn't have to, would I? You'd be 

demonstrating."

 

"Byers, anybody ever tell you you're a wise-ass?"

 

"Frohike, constantly, though he tends to use it on Langly 

more often."

 

Doggett smiled. For some reason, it seemed like the casual 

clothing brought out a somewhat more relaxed attitude in 

Byers. He seemed less guarded, perhaps a little less 

anxious, though it was obvious he felt somewhat 

uncomfortable without his suit.

 

"Well, wise-ass, you may find yourself dressed like this a 

little more often. It seems to be doing you some good. It's 

like I can see more of what you're really like this way."

 

Anxiety flashed in Byers' eyes, but he covered it quickly. 

"That's part of the reason I don't wear clothes like these 

very often. I don't want people to see me like this."

 

Doggett blinked, confused. "Why not? You look good like 

this."

 

"I feel... almost naked sometimes. Like people can look 

right through me. I don't care for it much." Byers looked 

away. "I feel safer in a suit. Like I can be invisible."

 

Doggett reached out and grasped Byers' shoulder, stopping. 

Byers stopped with him at the touch. "Johnny, are you 

afraid of me?"

 

Byers shook his head. "No more than I'm afraid of everyone 

else."

 

"Do you think I'm gonna hurt you if I learn too much about 

you?" There was concern in his voice, his head tilted as he 

looked at the man. The last thing he wanted was for Byers 

to think he would hurt him.

 

Byers hesitated. "Don't take this wrong, but I don't know 

yet. You haven't so far. But it wouldn't be the first time 

someone has." He sighed, the solemnity returning to his 

face. Doggett realized that part of what he'd been seeing 

in Byers' eyes every time he looked at him was a well-

disguised sadness. He wondered what had caused it, what had 

made it such a deep part of the quiet man.

 

"Do you actually trust anybody, John? Really trust them?"

 

"Frohike," Byers said, "Langly. I'm learning to trust 

Jimmy, but he's not a duplicitous person by nature."

 

"Not Mulder or Scully?" Doggett raised an eyebrow in 

surprise.

 

Byers looked down at the path as a jogger passed them. "To 

some extent. They get into such dangerous situations, 

though, and we never know if one of them is going to come 

back someday and not... not be themselves anymore." He 

shook his head and looked back up at Doggett. "You've heard 

about the shapeshifters. About the clones."

 

"That's a load of horse shit." 

 

"No," Byers said. "I've seen convincing evidence. And while 

I may not always be able to trust whether or not Mulder or 

Scully are themselves, I do believe what they say about 

most of their cases. And you -- those supersoldiers you 

talk about. Are they a load of horse shit too?" His eyes 

were guarded, accusatory.

 

Doggett sighed. "I'm not sure what the hell they are." He'd 

lost enough sleep worrying about it.

 

"But you don't doubt they exist."

 

"I've seen 'em with my own eyes. Seen shit I couldn't 

possibly believe otherwise. I've been picked up and tossed 

by one of those things."

 

Byers nodded. "And Agent Scully and Mulder have both had 

similar experiences with the shapeshifters and the clones, 

Jack. I've seen a sample of that acid green clone blood. I 

won't pretend to know if they're aliens or not, but I do 

believe they exist."

 

Doggett nodded, sighing. "Okay, you got me there. It's just 

hard to believe that stuff when I haven't seen it myself."

 

"And it's hard for me to let go of the paranoia that keeps 

me alive, Jack." Byers put his hand on Doggett's as it 

rested on his shoulder. "That's why it's hard for me to 

trust anyone. That's why it's hard for me to trust you, 

though I mean no offense."

 

"But you still let me do this stuff to you."

 

A wry smile bent Byers' lips. "Agent Scully trusts you. 

Mulder may not trust you, but he does respect you. For my 

purposes, their trust and respect are a high 

recommendation. And you told me the truth about your 

screening tests, about being clean. You've been honest with 

me about your relationship with Agent Reyes. That's a 

start."

 

"Why would I lie to you?" Doggett asked. He'd known Byers 

would check on the things he told him. Lying would have 

been worse than useless, and he didn't care to lie to the 

men he took to bed anyway. The vulnerability inherent in 

the situation was too deep for lies. It needed trust, or at 

least the potential for it.

 

Byers just looked at him.

 

"Yeah. Right. Too many guys do."

 

"Besides," Byers said, "that night, I knew the guys were 

going to be home in a few hours, and that you needed the 

information they were bringing. The likelihood of you 

hurting me under those circumstances was very low."

 

Doggett snorted at Byers' blatant cynicism. "So, after all 

our talking about this, why are you here if you don't trust 

me?"

 

Byers blushed, turning his face away. "Because I want to 

trust you. Because I enjoyed what we had and what you did 

to me, and I want more of it. Because you showed me you had 

fairly clear boundaries, and through our later talks, I saw 

that you could respect mine. Because sometimes I need 

someone -- just like you do -- and you're the closest thing 

I have right now to someone I can trust." He chuckled and 

grinned, looking back up at Doggett. "And besides, you 

offered me this all expenses paid trip to New York. How 

could I say no?"

 

Doggett grinned back at Byers, then squeezed his shoulder. 

"I guess that's fair. Under the circumstances, I can live 

with earning your trust." He looked around quickly and, not 

seeing anyone paying any attention to them, placed a brief 

but gentle kiss on Byers' neck. "At least I'll be having a 

good time while I do it."

 

The two men walked again, following the path deeper into 

the shade of the trees.

 

"I got a question for you, Johnny," Doggett said.

 

Byers looked up at him. "And?"

 

"You ever been to a club in the scene?"

 

Byers shook his head. "No. I've never had anyone to go 

with, and I didn't feel like it would be a good idea to go 

alone. Langly goes with Skinner sometimes, though."

 

"Would you like to? There's a private club here I go to 

when I'm in town. We could have dinner there, a drink or 

two. Maybe watch a scene if you're interested." He watched 

Byers carefully to gauge his response.

 

Byers' brow wrinkled, a look of confusion on his face. 

"Does this involve me being on a leash or anything?"

 

Doggett laughed. "No, not unless that's how you want to go 

there."

 

Byers shook his head in a vigorous no. "I don't think so!"

 

"Sometimes guys bring their subs dressed up like that, or 

in leather body harnesses, or stuff like that, but for the 

most part, people just dress fairly normal." Doggett 

smiled. "You can wear your suit if you like, since you feel 

most comfortable in that. But understand that you'll be 

seeing some stuff you're not used to seeing in public, 

okay?"

 

"Are people going to touch me?"

 

"Do you want them to?"

 

Byers stopped, surprised by the question. "I... you know, 

I'm not sure. I never really thought about it." He took a 

few hurried steps to catch up with Doggett, who had 

continued walking.

 

"Nobody will touch you without my permission," Doggett 

said. "So if you don't want to be touched, just tell me. I 

won't let anybody mess with you. You're mine, and they'll 

know it."

 

"Is your friend Brentali going to be there?" Byers asked, 

curious.

 

Doggett nodded. "Yeah, he asked me to come by tonight. 

Wanted me to bring you. Why, were you curious about him?" 

He watched Byers, noting the man's breathing had sped up 

slightly. "You want him to touch you?"

 

The question flustered Byers. He blushed. "I think... I 

mean, I could see he was interested in me earlier today. 

You told me that he..." Byers trailed off into silence.

 

"He wants you," Doggett agreed. "How do you feel about 

that? Did that turn you on?"

 

Byers nodded silently.

 

"You can let him touch you without it having to be anything 

else, you know," Doggett said. "I could make sure he would 

only touch you where you wanted to be touched. Nothing 

extreme. He wouldn't be grabbing your package, or sticking 

his hands under your clothes." The idea intrigued Doggett. 

It could make the game more fun, having another top to play 

off of. Watching Byers tremble under another man's touch 

might leave him feeling territorial, but when he finally 

got Byers back to their room, asserting his dominance and 

claiming his sub would be all that much sweeter. His voice 

deepened, arousal in his eyes. "But if you wanted, I could 

let him run his hands along your ass. You'd be safe. I'd 

draw the lines for him that you wanted drawn."

 

"We could do that?" Byers asked. His eyes had widened 

slightly, and the catch in his breath was more noticeable. 

"You seemed pretty territorial this morning."

 

"From what I could tell, that was part of what was gettin' 

you excited, wasn't it?"

 

Byers lowered his eyes. "Well." He swallowed, though his 

mouth was dry. "Actually, yeah, it was," he admitted.

 

"So would you like that? To go to the club tonight? Maybe 

let Sergio play with you a little?"

 

The bearded man considered for a few moments. "You'll make 

sure it stays safe for me?" There was a twinge of 

skepticism in his voice.

 

"Of course," Doggett reassured him. "That's part of my job. 

I won't let anybody do anything to you that you don't 

want."

 

"How should I act while we're there?" Byers asked. Doggett 

smiled.

 

"Like you would while we're playing," Doggett explained. 

"You bring me stuff if I want it, be where I want you to 

be, stay where I put you, come when I call you, treat me 

like you have been today. I might play with you if I'm in 

the mood for it, like earlier today. I think you'd enjoy 

watching a public scene or two. It doesn't actually get to 

fucking most of the time, but there might be nudity, and 

the scenes usually include bondage and discipline. Nobody 

interrupts a scene except the dungeon master, you don't 

touch anybody or anything belonging to anybody else without 

permission, and the other Doms can't touch you or tell you 

what to do unless they have my permission."

 

Byers looked excited. Doggett could see the quickness of 

his pulse at his throat. Byers was flushed and looked 

aroused from earlier in the day, a hardness starting in his 

jeans. The bearded man nodded. "That seems pretty 

straightforward."

 

"You? Straight?" Doggett asked, grinning broadly. "Not even 

in your dreams."

 

Byers laughed. "And how would you know what I dream about?"

 

"I know what turns you on," Doggett said, leaning into 

Byers' ear as they walked, his voice low and sultry. "I 

know how to make you come hard. And I know that everybody 

dreams about things that make 'em come. I also know that a 

woman wearing a strap-on ain't the same as having a man's 

hot, hard rod up your ass."

 

"That's true, about the dreams," Byers said. Doggett 

watched the shiver slide down his spine. "But just 

remember, you don't know everything about me."

 

Doggett grinned evilly. "Give me time, Johnny. Give me 

time."

 

Byers smiled shyly, blushing hard. 

 

Doggett looked down at his bulge, smiling. "Damn, you look 

good in those."

 

Byers kept walking, shifting to try to adjust himself 

without reaching down his pants and grabbing himself 

publicly, like some baseball player. Doggett chuckled, 

leaving the shy man to his silence while he performed his 

uncomfortable shimmy. He amused himself by thinking about 

bending Byers over a park bench and sliding into his tight 

ass.

 

"Laugh while you can, monkey boy," Byers grumbled.

 

Doggett raised an eyebrow. "Monkey boy?"

 

Byers shifted his waistband, finally achieving some 

comfort. He looked at Doggett. "Oh, you don't -- sorry. I'm 

being a geek again. It's a 'Buckaroo Banzai' movie quote." 

He sighed.

 

"Weird-assed tacky movie with John Lithgow?" Doggett asked, 

slightly confused.

 

Byers blinked. "You've seen it?"

 

"Long time ago, but I didn't remember much about it except 

for a buncha aliens all named John."

 

"I wonder if this makes us both Lectroids from Planet Ten," 

Byers said, chuckling.

 

Doggett snorted. "I got no idea what you just said, but I 

think I want the answer to be no."

 

"Good choice," Byers said. "I'd rather be Professor Hikita 

anyway."

 

"You're weird."

 

Byers laughed. "And you just noticed?"

 

Doggett shook his head. He decided that if he hung around 

with this man too much, he'd probably have to adjust to 

things far stranger than Mulder's theories. But then, maybe 

that wouldn't be such an awful thing. He was pretty sure if 

he'd gotten the joke, it would have been funny.

 

They walked through the park for over an hour, stopping 

occasionally to sit on a bench and watch the people moving 

by. With time, Byers seemed to get slightly less 

uncomfortable in the casual clothes he wore. Doggett bought 

them fresh pretzels from a cart, still hot and chewy. They 

sat again, a flock of hopeful pigeons at their feet.

 

Byers nibbled the pretzel, then looked over at Doggett. 

"How much does Agent Reyes know about what you do?" he 

asked.

 

"She knows I'm with guys sometimes. I told you that."

 

"I mean, does she know *what* you do when you're with men?"

 

Doggett shook his head. "No. It's not something she needs 

to know. Just like the FBI doesn't need to know that I take 

men to bed with me."

 

"Does she know about our arrangement?" Byers asked.

 

"She knows I'm seein' somebody, but she doesn't know who. 

Most of the time, I don't see the same guy for very long. 

She doesn't ask. Never really met one I wanted to have stay 

with me. Not for too long, anyway." Doggett sighed. "I've 

tried, but most guys, they're just not the staying type."

 

Byers nodded, looking thoughtful. A ghost of regret passed 

his face and vanished quickly. "But you've known Agent 

Reyes for a long time. Have you and she..."

 

"Well, yeah, but that's different. We don't do anything 

like this. We're... I guess we're just good friends who 

sleep together sometimes." He shrugged, then looked away 

from Byers, watching the people pass by. "Ever since 

Luke... since the divorce... now and then, you know. We've 

been there for each other. She sees other guys sometimes, 

but nobody seems to stay with her, either. I dunno why. 

She's a good woman. Deserves somebody who would just be 

hers, you know? Sure as hell not that jerk, Follmer, 

though." He looked back, seeing sympathy in Byers' eyes.

 

"I could check him out for you, if you'd like. If there's 

any dirt on him, I'd find it."

 

Doggett shook his head. "Not now. Not yet, anyway. He's a 

jerk, but he's not messing with her career or anything. If 

she says he's givin' her a hard time, then yeah, I'll ask."

 

"Okay," Byers said, nodding. He took another bite of the 

pretzel.

 

Doggett watched Byers for a few moments, eating his own 

pretzel as he thought. After he swallowed, he asked, "Why 

have you been alone for so long, Johnny? A guy like you, 

I'd expect you'd have a partner."

 

It was Byers' turn to sigh. "I... I guess a lot of it is 

that it's hard for me to meet people. I don't get out much 

for things other than work. I don't go out to the bars, and 

I'm just not public about... well... as you said, the FBI 

doesn't need to know you sleep with other men. I don't feel 

like my private life is anyone else's business. Only the 

guys know, really. And Skinner. And you."

 

"You're worried about blackmail?"

 

Byers snorted. "Some. I'm more worried about ending up 

involved with someone that turned out to be involved in one 

of the conspiracies. It's less about blackmail than about 

being used against my friends, or even getting killed by 

someone who fooled me into trusting him. The work we do, 

it's too important for me to take personal risks like 

that." The sadness in Byers' eyes deepened for a moment, 

then vanished behind the calm mask of his usual expression. 

 

Byers seemed lost in thought. Doggett wondered what he was 

thinking. Byers shook his head after a moment and looked 

back at Doggett. "For me, it's never really been about the 

usual things. The few people I've been with over the years 

have generally thought I was just too strange. I was 

married once, for about a year, back around 1993. Her name 

was Doreen." 

 

Byers hung his head, speaking quietly, and Doggett thought 

he looked like he was carrying the entire planet on his 

shoulders. "She thought some of the things I wanted were... 

too kinky. She couldn't stand the guys, and didn't like the 

risks I took with the paper and our investigations. Once, 

after a particularly rough mission, I came home pretty 

badly beaten up, and she threw me out. Said she was sick of 

my kinks and she wasn't willing to see me come home in a 

body bag for some 'stupid ghost chase.' I don't know. Maybe 

by then she was just looking for an excuse. She filed for 

divorce the next day. I ended up living with the guys." The 

slight man obviously still felt some regret.

 

"Frohike said you had a thing for some woman named 

Susanne." Doggett wanted to reach out to Byers, to take him 

in his arms and offer him some comfort, but the place was 

too public. He'd have to make sure to spend time with him 

that night outside the game, and make sure the man knew he 

was wanted. Byers would never want pity from anyone, but 

knowing he was wanted, just as he was, might help.

 

Byers nodded. "I did. I guess I still do. But there's no 

possible way it could ever have worked out for us." He took 

a deep breath, obviously extremely uncomfortable. He was 

nearly inaudible when he said, "She was killed in Las 

Vegas, back in '99." 

 

The pain in Byers' eyes was raw. Doggett laid a hand on his 

arm. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know. Sounds like 

things have been pretty lousy for you. I didn't mean to 

bring up bad memories."

 

"No," Byers replied. "I need to move on. I've spent too 

much time clinging to the past, wishing for things that can 

never be."

 

"I know how hard that can be," Doggett said, quiet. He 

thought again of Luke and Barbara, then sighed. "You gotta 

take what you can find, what comes your way. Live in that." 

He slid his hand down Byers' arm and took his hand. The 

fingers were long and slender, delicate but strong. Doggett 

squeezed his hand, and Byers squeezed back, then let go.

 

"Thanks," the hacker whispered. The sadness hadn't left his 

voice.

 

"Let's get off our asses and head over to The Cloisters," 

Doggett suggested.

 

Byers nodded. "Sounds like a good idea."

 

THE CLOISTERS

FORT TRYON PARK

LATE AFTERNOON

 

Byers had been wandering with Doggett through the four acre 

museum complex for over two hours, his head spinning with 

the visual overload. After walking through the extensive 

cloister gardens, they had examined paintings, jewels, 

scrolls, and incanabulae. Doggett found himself fascinated 

by the collection of statuary and metalwork, while Byers 

admired the justly famous unicorn tapestries.

 

A selection of ivory carvings had caught Byers' eye. He was 

quickly drawn to one particularly spectacular piece; an 

intricate cross of walrus ivory encased in a well lighted 

glass display. He tugged Doggett's sleeve and pulled him 

over to view the cross with him.

 

"Look at this," Byers said, his voice excited and reverent. 

"I read a book about this one years ago. The Cloisters 

Cross, probably made at a monastery at Bury St. Edmunds in 

England. There was a really fascinating mystery surrounding 

this cross."

 

Doggett looked at the cross, then over at Byers. "A whole 

book? About this thing?" He pointed at the artifact, then 

leaned down to examine the details through the glass. He'd 

been to The Cloisters a number of times before, but hadn't 

been particularly interested in most of the wood and ivory 

altar items. The gold and silver work attracted him more. 

It was a very finely carved piece, to be sure, but the 

slender, two-foot tall cross didn't really do anything for 

him. 

 

"Yes, it was titled 'King of the Confessors' and written by 

the curator who acquired the piece for the museum. It was 

fascinating. Lots of downright bizarre personalities among 

the art collectors, the dealers, and the museum curators he 

worked with." Byers grinned with an almost boyish 

enthusiasm and leaned in to study the cross closely. It 

showed magnificently carved biblical scenes, and was 

engraved with texts all over its surface. "There were 

questions about the provenance of the piece, the 

translations of its engravings, and its authenticity. Lots 

of cloak and dagger circumstances. Some of these 

inscriptions are diatribes against the Jews for killing 

Christ -- very nasty stuff, entirely typical of the 

attitudes of the Church in the 12th century. It was a fun 

book."

 

"Look at this," he whispered, gesturing at the carvings. 

"None of this stuff was pegged on. Each section was carved 

as a single piece. I never thought I'd have a chance to see 

it in person. The walrus ivory the artist used for it is 

much more delicate than elephant ivory. The workmanship is 

amazing. Isn't it exquisitely made?"

 

Doggett didn't answer the rhetorical question, instead 

watching the expression of concentration and delight on 

Byers' face. This was the first genuinely unguarded moment 

he'd ever seen in the younger man, outside the intensity of 

sexual release. In his interest, Byers was relaxed and 

happy, smiling to himself, eyes alight with fascination. 

His excitement brought a smile to Doggett's face as well, 

and he watched Byers examine the artifact for quite some 

time. People walked by, looking at the cross and the other 

items in the gallery, but Byers was almost oblivious to 

their presence.

 

"Johnny, " Doggett finally said, "there's a lot of this 

place left to see. We should be moving along."

 

Byers looked up, startled. "Oh, sorry. You're right, we 

should, shouldn't we?"

 

"It's okay. I just want to make sure we're in time for 

dinner later." He grinned.

 

PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL

ROOM 1246

EARLY EVENING

 

Byers sat on the bed, shifting nervously. "Are you sure 

this is going to be safe? What if..." the younger man 

swallowed uneasily, "what if somebody one of us knows sees 

us there?" 

 

Doggett shook his head and chuckled. "I already know most 

of the guys there, Johnny. A lot of the other guys in that 

place are just as concerned about being outed as either of 

us. If they're actually there in the club, it's because 

they do this too. The membership screening is pretty 

thorough, and it's exclusive. Members and their personal 

guests only. Members are responsible for their guest's 

behavior, so nobody brings anybody in that they don't think 

is gonna follow the rules, and the rules include 

confidentiality."

 

"Your friend Brentali doesn't look like the sort who's 

worried about being outed."

 

Nodding, Doggett said, "He doesn't care if anybody knows 

he's queer, never has, but he's way more careful about 

letting folks know he's into these kinds of games. He's as 

discreet as anybody else there, believe me. I've been a 

member for years, and never had trouble with being outed, 

okay?"

 

Byers sighed and nodded, but his eyes still carried the 

weight of uncertainty. It was a remarkable contrast to the 

man who had eagerly thrown himself into appreciating the 

ivory carving at The Cloisters that afternoon, Doggett 

thought. He wished he could see Byers that way more often, 

relaxed and smiling. The guy had a great smile and didn't 

use it nearly often enough. 

 

"What would you like me to wear tonight, Sir?" Byers asked.

 

Doggett thought for a moment. "One of your suits is fine, 

but the brown one doesn't do anything for you. I don't like 

it much. You can wear the grey one. I got a question, 

though."

 

"Yes, Sir?"

 

"You can't afford the good suits, but you always have these 

silk ties. What's with that?"

 

Byers sighed. "They're the only nice things I can afford 

for myself. They remind me I haven't actually taken a vow 

of poverty." He gave Doggett a wry smile.

 

Doggett chuckled. "Makes sense, I guess."

 

Byers nodded and went to get the suit from his closet. 

Spreading it on the bed, he got undressed down to his 

boxers. When he reached for his undershirt, Doggett stopped 

him.

 

"No undershirt tonight. Take off the boxers, Johnny, and 

lie down on your back." He gestured to the bed.

 

Byers looked up, puzzled, but nodded. "Yes, Sir." He 

removed his boxers, lay on the bed and waited for 

instructions. A tingle of excitement stirred in his 

stomach, and his breath quickened. Perhaps his Master would 

have a little sympathy for the teasing he'd endured during 

the day, and take some pleasure in him before they left. 

Then again, it didn't seem too likely.

 

Doggett took Byers' wrists and brought them up over his 

head, then laid them crossed together on the bed. Byers 

stayed as he was positioned, and Doggett's hands spread his 

ankles as well. "Like that, Johnny. Stay like that until I 

tell you you can move." The agent's light blue eyes raked 

over Byers' body, drinking him in.

 

"Yes, Sir," Byers breathed, excited, waiting for the 

touches that must surely come next. He could feel his dick 

beginning to stir, and saw Doggett watching him intently. 

It was almost a physical touch, the way his Master looked 

at him.

 

He watched Doggett's hand descend, his Master's fingers 

curling to caress his face. The first soft touch sent a 

shudder through his body.

 

"Yes," Doggett whispered. He felt Byers' shudder, savoring 

its subtlety, and watched the man's shaft begin to rise 

slowly and hesitantly. He was so sensitive, so easily 

aroused, and it pleased Doggett greatly. It felt good to 

have someone respond so quickly, so intensely to his touch. 

His fingers slid down Byers' cheek, over his throat, down 

his chest and abdomen, into the slender man's pubic hair.

 

Byers' body arched into the touch and he moaned, closing 

his eyes. His cock stiffened further, growing and getting 

darker. A bolt of hot desire flashed up Doggett's spine and 

he barely managed to keep himself from gasping. He slid his 

fingertips up Byers' hardening shaft, feeling the man's 

heat. He could feel his mouth going dry, and licked his 

lips. This would be sweet, and he was sure Byers would like 

it.

 

Reaching to the bedside table, he opened the drawer and 

withdrew a small leather device. It was chill from sitting 

all day in the air conditioned room. 

 

Byers opened his eyes, wondering where Doggett's hand had 

gone.

 

"Eyes closed," Doggett snapped, not letting Byers see what 

was in his fingers. The hacker shut his eyes again, sighing 

quietly. Doggett's empty hand went to Byers' balls and 

caressed them gently. They were pleasantly heavy in his 

hand, filling his palm. He pulled carefully, stretching the 

man's sac slightly.

 

"Ahhh..." Byers moaned softly at the sensation, wanting 

more. It was a struggle not to move, not to take Doggett's 

hand, pull it to his hardness, and make him stroke it. He 

wanted to come so badly, and being teased yet again was an 

incredibly erotic torture.

 

Doggett shook out the leather harness, and its components 

fell into place, black loops and tiny rings and clips 

arranged in a familiar pattern. He took it in both hands 

and began to fasten the cold leather and metal around 

Byers' balls, slipping one small strap between them and 

tightening it, then fastening a loop around the base of his 

cock.

 

Byers gasped loudly at the cold touch, eyes clenched shut, 

his shaft gone to granite from the stimulation. He could 

feel the bondage device being fitted around him, pulling 

and separating his balls, fitting snug at the root of his 

member, its loops being wrapped around his length to the 

ridge of his head. It was exquisite, and he groaned deep at 

the incredible feeling. Doggett's fingers moved, and there 

was a small click, then the weight of what he imagined was 

a small lock at the base of his cock to keep the thing 

secured. 

 

He was so hard and so aroused at the feeling of his 

genitals being bound that it was all he could do to keep 

from coming right then. The cool sensation was rapidly 

giving way to his body's heat, and he knew it must be 

leather and metal that bound him; tight enough to be 

exciting and stimulating, loose enough that it wouldn't 

interfere with his circulation or cause any damage, even if 

he wore it for the duration of the evening. He'd never felt 

anything so good before.

 

Byers' gasp and sudden physical response to the bondage ran 

through Doggett's body, electric and burning. His own rod 

hardened quickly, and he ran a hand along it through his 

pants. He needed to get dressed too, which would require 

him to undress first, and he decided that he would take 

advantage of this, teasing Byers further.

 

He undressed swiftly, tossing his clothes in a bedside 

chair. He knew what he wanted to do now.

 

"Open your eyes, Johnny," he ordered. 

 

Byers looked over at him, and his eyes widened. Doggett's 

strong, firm body was revealed before him, thick cock 

standing high and dark, his tight balls tantalizing to the 

sub. There was a long, thin silver chain around his neck, 

and a tiny key hung from it. He hoped against hope that 

Doggett's nudity and hardness meant that his Master would 

take him now, would enter him, ride him hard, give him 

release. His breathing was ragged, his erect member 

throbbing against the leather that bound it. "Sir," he 

whispered, then swallowed. "Please, Sir." His body shivered 

on the bed, but despite the depth of his temptation, he 

didn't change his position, keeping his arms and legs where 

they'd been placed.

 

Doggett walked the few paces to the bed slowly, his eyes 

locked with Byers' the whole time. Byers' whole body was 

flush now, his excitement palpable and thick in the air. 

Doggett knew his sub wanted to be fucked hard, but he 

wouldn't give Byers that pleasure until much later that 

night. The bearded man would be granted his orgasm under 

rather more elaborate conditions.

 

He reached out with one hand and took Byers' wrists. "Sit 

up," he said, pulling Byers' arms toward him. 

 

Byers obeyed silently, his eyes still fixed on Doggett's, 

still as a bird before the gaze of a cobra. 

 

Doggett tugged at his wrists, urging him to stand. He 

brought him forward a few steps. "Kneel," he said gently.

 

Byers sank to his knees, spreading them wide as he knew 

Doggett liked, still watching the tall man's eyes. His 

chest was heaving, breath coming hard and fast, not knowing 

what would happen next.

 

Doggett moved close to Byers and released his wrists. 

"Touch me."

 

Byers' eyes widened. He put a tentative hand out, pausing 

for only a second before he ran his fingers up the inside 

of Doggett's thigh from his knee. He watched Doggett's face 

intently, looking for any sign or instruction, allowing his 

fingers to stray to Doggett's balls, caressing and 

tickling, running them through the wiry hair. He hadn't 

been allowed to touch Doggett like this before. The feeling 

was compelling, exciting.

 

Doggett's cock twitched at Byers' soft touch. He reached 

down, taking Byers' head in one hand, and leaned it against 

his abdomen. The silky hair and beard felt good against his 

skin, and he shivered with pleasure. His eyes slid half 

closed as he watched Byers touch him. "That's good, 

Johnny," he whispered, "give me more." He could feel Byers 

smile against his skin at hearing his approval.

 

Byers' other hand ran up the back of Doggett's leg as he 

listened to his Master's heartbeat sounding in his body. 

The man's heart was racing, and Byers closed his eyes with 

a contented sigh, allowing himself to worship the body of 

the man he knelt before. He kissed Doggett's flat stomach 

gently, then ran the tip of his tongue from pubic bone to 

navel. One hand found Doggett's shaft and began stroking, 

slow and tight, while the other caressed the hard, defined 

curve of Doggett's ass. His Master moaned, pleased, and 

stroked his hair with trembling hands. Byers tightened his 

grip on the thick, hot dick, pumping more enthusiastically, 

and he squeezed Doggett's ass cheek. 

 

Doggett's fingers tightened and fisted in Byers' hair. 

Taking a condom from the bedside stand, he ripped the 

packet open with his teeth and handed the condom to Byers. 

"Suck me," he growled, pushing Byers' face to his swollen, 

leaking rod.

 

Byers rolled the condom on with his mouth, then fell on 

him, starving, sucking hard and deep, holding both of 

Doggett's cheeks in his hands and kneading them, pulling 

him closer so he could suck more deeply. The feel of his 

Master's hot, thick flesh in his mouth and the scent of his 

arousal drove Byers to a frenzy after all the denial he'd 

suffered during the day. He felt the leather around his 

cock and balls holding him securely, and the sensation 

pushed him close, so close.

 

He growled as he sucked, and Doggett groaned loud, then 

pulled Byers back.

 

"Enough," Doggett said, his voice heavy and low.

 

Byers looked up in disbelief. "But --"

 

"No complaints!" Doggett barked. He pulled Byers to his 

feet, hands still wrapped in the man's short hair. Byers 

whimpered and stood quickly. Doggett pulled him to his body 

and kissed him fiercely, then released him and stepped 

back. "Get dressed," he said.

 

Byers was gasping from the kiss, shocked by the sudden end 

of their play. He could barely catch his breath to reply, 

"Yes, Sir."

 

Doggett regretted having to cut things short, but he'd been 

about to come, and that wasn't part of his pre-dinner 

plans. He didn't want to wear himself out before he was 

ready to take Byers to bed for the night. He shared his 

sub's frustration, but would not let him see it. He 

discarded the condom and dressed quickly, then watched 

Byers finish dressing. There was a feral edge of lust in 

Byers' eyes, and he knew that their night at the club would 

be much more fun than he'd first thought. He couldn't wait.

 

PRIVATE CLUB

20TH FLOOR PENTHOUSE

UPPER EAST SIDE

EVENING

 

The elevator opened into a large room in what had been 

listed as a private apartment in the building's directory. 

This was, however, no ordinary apartment. The club was 

spacious, appointed in dark colors, and the west wall was a 

huge picture window overlooking the city and central park. 

It was still light enough out to appreciate the view. The 

air was filled with the scent of food, and there was dance 

music playing. 

 

Byers stepped in, followed closely by Doggett. His eyes 

widened as he looked around. The place was crowded with 

men. Some were in street clothes. Some wore full leathers, 

while others wore nothing but body harnesses, chains, and 

collars. Many were multiply pierced or tattooed, or both. A 

few were cross-dressed in black lace and leather bodices, 

impossibly tall spike heeled boots on their feet. Several 

wore matching bright red leather armbands across their left 

biceps.

 

The men weren't what Byers expected. In his rare ventures 

into the gay scene, he'd usually found himself surrounded 

by young hard-bodies; men who looked like they spent every 

free moment at the gym. Most had been as vain as they were 

brainless. It had always left Byers feeling ignored and 

unwanted because of his slenderness and his plain 

appearance. In his heart, he'd often wondered if a stupid 

lover would be better than none at all, but he'd always 

driven the thought away, knowing he didn't fit the desired 

ideal.

 

This club seemed as different from that scene as ocean and 

desert. There were men of every age, every size and body 

type. Most were Caucasian, though there were a good number 

of Asians, and a few black and Hispanic men as well. Even 

the casually dressed men were well appointed; much better 

attired than Byers' usual crowd. Yet again, he felt out of 

place. The very air of the place was intimidating, 

radiating wealth, or power, or both.

 

Some men were kissing each other, or openly caressing -- 

even groping -- each other. Some sat calmly at the feet of 

men that Byers assumed were their Masters. One tubby older 

white man wore nothing but a collar and a leash, lying 

curled at the feet of a big, immaculately dressed black man 

who sat in an equally large leather easy chair as he 

conversed with another man. Byers stared, astonished, 

around the room, but his attention was brought up short at 

the sound of a flogger striking flesh, and a following 

moan. 

 

His head pivoted, and he focused on the dias across the 

room from him. Against the wall, a St. Andrews cross held a 

beautiful, buff young man; he was nude but for a leather 

collar, and bound hand and foot, facing into the room. His 

waist was secured to the center of the structure with a 

black leather strap, and his cock and balls were bound in a 

device similar to the one Byers wore, but much more 

elaborate and heavier. Weights hung from it, stretching the 

man's balls. His chest and thighs were striped with red 

marks, and his shaft was huge, hard, and visibly throbbing. 

Two men held floggers, each taking turns teasing, touching, 

and striking the bound man before them. Byers' body 

responded viscerally to the sight, the leather binding his 

cock reminding him of how close he was to such a position 

himself. His breath caught.

 

Doggett's hand fell on his shoulder and he startled. "You 

like that, don't you," Doggett said. It wasn't a question.

 

Byers blushed, not taking his eyes from the scene.

 

"It's okay," Doggett said. "It's safe here. This is why 

guys like us come here, Johnny. For things we need. For 

things we can't get anywhere else." Doggett ran his other 

hand down Byers' chest to his waist, soft and slow. "We 

come to watch," he said quietly, his lips brushing Byers' 

ear, his fingers brushing Byers' bound shaft, "and to 

play."

 

Byers shivered, and Doggett urged him gently forward into 

the room. He could barely tear his eyes from the scene on 

the dias as he stepped forward. The man's yelps and deep, 

primal moans caught in Byers' gut, compelling and 

fascinating him. He wished he was alone with Doggett, that 

he was bound on the cross, that Doggett was striking him, 

giving him that rich mix of pain and pleasure. His desire -

\- his lust for it -- frightened him as much as it excited 

him. He felt as though the temperature in the room had just 

shot up ten degrees.

 

"You really are gettin' turned on," Doggett said, pleased. 

Byers turned and saw the smile on Doggett's face. It was a 

dark, predatory smile, his Master's eyes hooded and 

burning. "Maybe we can do something about that later," he 

said, "after dinner."

 

Byers' heart skipped a beat and he swallowed, nodding. 

"Please, Sir," he said, barely audible over the sounds of 

the room.

 

Doggett guided him through the open space and around the 

corner to the left, where the music was loudest. There were 

tables and a bar here, with meals being served. Over in the 

corner near the massive picture window was a sizeable dance 

floor. There was no band, but there were men dancing 

together, bodies tangling in the dim light behind the 

area's drawn curtains.

 

Doggett chose a table and Byers held the chair for him. 

"Johnny," he said, "get me a shot of Tullamore Dew, 40 

year, straight up. Get something for yourself too, then 

come sit with me."

 

"Yes, Sir," Byers nodded. He went to the bar, requesting 

the whiskey and ordering a gin and tonic for himself. 

Hurrying back to Doggett's table, he set his Master's drink 

carefully before him, resting on a small napkin. 

 

Doggett nodded and motioned to the chair across the small 

table for Byers to sit. A moment later, a waiter appeared, 

attired in leather chaps, a leather thong, and a skin-tight 

stretch tank top. There was a bright red leather armband 

fastened around his left bicep. He handed a menu to Doggett 

as Byers looked him up and down appreciatively.

 

"Welcome back, Sarge," he said cheerfully. "It's good to 

see you again."

 

Doggett grinned up at the man. "Bill -- still working here, 

I see?"

 

"Can't beat the atmosphere and the fringe benefits, Sir," 

Bill said with a wink.

 

"Yeah, only the subs." Doggett chuckled and picked up the 

menu to see what was available. "What's on special 

tonight?"

 

Bill bowed slightly, the long blond tail of hair moving on 

his back. "We have fresh rainbow trout from the Catskills 

tonight, with a lemon and garlic butter sauce, that's just 

a delight. It's accompanied by fresh garden vegetables. New 

York steak with baked russet potato and Chesapeake Bay 

steamers is the other special this evening. Soup of the day 

is tomato basil."

 

Doggett looked over at Byers. "Two of the steaks," he said. 

Byers smiled.

 

The order was finished quickly and efficiently, and Bill 

smiled warmly at Byers then moved, smooth and elegant, past 

the bar into the kitchen.

 

"The red armband," Doggett said, "is how you tell the club 

personnel from the members. The Dungeon Masters wear one on 

both arms. Their word's law in here. Remember that."

 

"Yes, Sir."

 

Doggett had deliberately seated them so that they could 

both look off to the side to watch the scene that had so 

fascinated Byers. He watched as Byers stared openly at the 

three men on the dias. Each of the blows from the flogger 

drew a sharp, quiet inhalation from the bearded man, his 

eyes never leaving the scene. The bound sub's moans were 

making Byers squirm in his seat, and Doggett could almost 

hear him wishing he were on that cross. 

 

The scene probably wouldn't go on much longer, as it was 

apparent the triad had been at it for some time before 

they'd arrived. One of the men was busy stroking and 

teasing the bound young man's rod as the other slowly drew 

the straps of the flogger across his chest. The actual 

blows were widely spaced, but the light, sensual touch of 

the leather and the ministration of the other man's hands 

had driven the sub on the cross into an ecstatic trance. 

Doggett knew it would only be a few minutes before the sub 

was released from the cross, then taken upstairs to one of 

the private rooms to be fucked by his Master and the other 

man. 

 

Their salads arrived as the sub was being released. Byers 

barely noticed, still engrossed in watching the three men.

 

Doggett leaned across the small table toward his sub. "You 

want that, don't you, Johnny."

 

Byers startled and looked back at Doggett, an almost guilty 

expression on his face. He swallowed and took a deep 

breath.

 

"You want to be up there on that thing, don't you," Doggett 

said again.

 

Byers nodded, then shook his head vigorously, his voice 

nervous and uneasy. "Yes -- I mean no! No, Sir. Not here. 

Not... I couldn't bear to have anyone watch, Sir. Only you. 

Only if it was just you."

 

Doggett smiled softly at Byers' awkwardness. He understood 

his sub's fears, knew that it would be a long time, if 

ever, before the shy man would be ready to be displayed 

like that. "It's okay, Johnny. I didn't mean here, and I 

certainly didn't mean tonight. But it's good to know what 

you like, what some of your fantasies are." He reached out 

and placed a hand over Byers' trembling hand. 

 

Byers closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to 

force himself to calmness. He'd never been in a situation 

like this before in his life. The leather bindings around 

his cock were tight and stimulating. They had been causing 

a feedback loop that was impossible to ignore since Doggett 

had placed them on him; his arousal made him more aware of 

the bindings, and the bindings kept him intensely aroused. 

It was a disorienting distraction he found himself loving. 

Dinner had barely started, and already he wanted to be back 

in the hotel room with his Master, bound and helpless 

before him, his back and chest and ass covered with 

stinging, stimulating stripes; legs open, body vulnerable 

for the taking. He craved Doggett's hands on him, Doggett's 

mouth on his throat, his Master's deepest penetration.

 

Doggett reached out and touched Byers' face. The slender 

man's half closed eyes had glazed over and he was obviously 

lost in a deeply erotic fantasy. His mouth was slightly 

open and panting, and he was flushed with desire. It was 

beautiful to see, but dinner was more on Doggett's mind at 

the moment than sex. This would be a long evening of 

waiting and desire for both of them, but he was sure the 

end result would be well worth it.

 

"Come back, Johnny," Doggett said. "You need to eat."

 

Byers blinked, then focused again. "Yes, Sir. I'm sorry, 

Sir."

 

"You didn't do anything wrong. Just stay with me for a 

while and eat your dinner, okay? I promise you'll get what 

you need when we get back to the hotel tonight."

 

Byers smiled and sighed, finally relaxing in his chair. 

Given this promise, he felt he could endure anything while 

he waited. "Thank you, Sir."

 

Doggett gave him a wicked grin. "Oh, don't thank me yet. 

The evening's just beginning."

 

Dinner was consumed with great pleasure. Without the scene 

on the dias to distract him, Byers was able to pay 

attention to his meal, and his Master. The steak and 

steamers were delicious and filling. He hadn't had a steak 

in ages, and his delight in the meal was immense.

 

After the meal, Doggett stood. "Come with me," he said, and 

led Byers to the restroom on the other side of the bar. 

 

Inside, Doggett leaned Byers back against one of the sinks. 

He reached for Byers' fly.

 

"Here?" Byers asked, startled.

 

"We have to take the harness off you for about ten minutes. 

It's been almost two hours now and if we leave 'em on too 

long, they might cause some problems with restricted 

circulation. Just think of it as part of the game." Doggett 

pulled down Byers' zipper and slipped the man's hard dick 

and balls out.

 

The touch left Byers gasping. "What if... what if somebody 

sees this?"

 

Doggett leaned down, pulling the chain with the key from 

under his shirt. "Then they see it. It's a hell of a lot 

tamer than the stuff they see in here most nights." He 

opened the lock and unbound Byers' swollen flesh.

 

The loosening of the leather sent a pulse of sharp, dense 

sensation through Byers' cock and balls, and he closed his 

eyes and leaned his shoulders and head back against the 

mirror, moaning deeply, his hands gripping the edge of the 

sink hard. Doggett caressed him, working his erection to 

ensure that his sub's circulation was fine, and his 

equipment was still in good shape.

 

Byers was panting hard, unable to focus on anything but the 

intense pleasure he felt under Doggett's hands. The next 

thing he knew, the leather was fastened around him again, 

and his cock and balls were once again bound, locked, and 

tucked back into his pants. With the sensual pressure 

surrounding him again, he sighed and groaned.

 

Once he could get his breath back, he said, "That was ten 

minutes?"

 

Doggett laughed. "Yeah, and eight guys have been in and out 

of here in that time. Most of 'em didn't even bother to 

look." That wasn't entirely true. Two men had stopped to 

watch for a few minutes before slipping into one of the 

stalls to suck each other off, but Byers didn't need to 

know that. "Come on. Let's go see what's going on out on 

the main floor now."

 

The two men walked back out, skirting the dance floor, 

narrowly avoiding a dancer too close to the edge. Doggett 

found a seat near the dias, where a demonstration of 

creating rope body harnesses was taking place. He sat, then 

patted the arm of the large, plush leather chair. "Sit with 

me," he told Byers.

 

Byers sat on the arm of the chair, and Doggett's arm slid 

around his waist. It was warm and comfortable, and Doggett 

rested his hand on Byers' thigh. Byers looked down at his 

Master for a moment, but Doggett's attention was on the 

demonstration, so he leaned against the back of the chair, 

draping his arm around Doggett's shoulders, and began to 

watch as well.

 

The demo involved two heavyset men. One stood in the center 

of the dias, wearing only a pair of leather shorts, and the 

other wrapped the model in rope as he explained the 

techniques, the twists, and the knots being used. Several 

men had gathered on the dias to get a closer look at the 

process. Byers didn't find it as stimulating as the scene 

during dinner, but he thought the harness itself looked 

like it would feel good around his body. He wondered if 

Doggett had any experience with them.

 

As they watched, Doggett's hand slid down Byers' leg to the 

inside of his thigh, caressing slowly and gently. It felt 

good. Byers looked around quickly and didn't see anyone 

paying attention to them, so he opened his legs slightly to 

allow Doggett's hand closer to his crotch. Surrounded by 

such goings on, he felt as though Doggett's fingers tracing 

the shape of his balls -- while sensual and in his mind 

still forbidden in so public a place -- was almost 

unnoticeably mundane.

 

When a young, muscular, half dressed man stepped up to the 

chair and saluted Doggett, Byers startled and snapped his 

legs shut.

 

"Sir," the crew-cut young man said. He looked at Doggett 

with a smile, then passed his eyes over Byers with a look 

of pure scorn. A knot formed in Byers' stomach.

 

"What?" Doggett asked, annoyed. The look hadn't been lost 

on him. 

 

The man was dressed in camo pants and combat boots, with 

dogtags on a chain around his neck. He looked hard and 

buff, and his shoulder was tattooed with the globe and 

anchor of the Marine Corps. "Sir! The Maestro requests the 

honor of your presence, Sergeant, Sir. And," the man looked 

at Byers disdainfully, "he wants you to bring your pussy 

boy with you." His voice dripped with contempt. Several men 

turned to look, and there was suddenly an air of tension in 

their corner of the room.

 

Doggett got to his feet, eyes blazing ice blue. He took 

Byers' wrist. "Come on," he said, then turned to the 

Marine. "Take me to him." Doggett's voice was low and 

dangerous, and Byers didn't like the sound of it. He could 

feel people's eyes following them as they moved. The 

sensation left him feeling cold and anxious.

 

The Marine turned and led them across the room to a seat 

near the door. Sergio Brentali sat in a comfortable 

recliner. "Your guests, Maestro," the young Marine said as 

they approached.

 

Brentali saw the anger in Doggett's face. "Is something 

wrong, John?"

 

"I seriously doubt that you gave this jackass instructions 

for me to bring my 'pussy boy' to see you," Doggett spat.

 

Brentali's eyes widened. He turned to the Marine. The young 

man went pale.

 

"No," Brentali said, horrified. "I absolutely did not."

 

"I take it this sorry excuse for a pile of dog shit isn't 

one of yours, even though you brought him. I know you train 

'em way better than that. Your permission?" Doggett glared 

at the Marine, who had started leaning back away from him.

 

Brentali nodded. "He's yours," he said. "Do as you will 

with him within the club's rules. I borrowed him from 

Tracey for the evening. He looked far more your usual 

preference than your guest, and I thought he might amuse 

you. I see I was sadly mistaken."

 

Doggett turned and fixed his attention on the man, who 

shrank back. Sudden realization of the magnitude of his 

mistake glimmered in the Marine's brown eyes. 

 

"Stand at attention!" Doggett bellowed. He generally didn't 

go for humiliation games, but the circumstances warranted a 

reaction that would guarantee the young man never repeated 

the mistake. 

 

Aside from the dance music, the room went silent. The 

Marine snapped to attention, a look of pure terror on his 

face.

 

Byers suppressed a cringe at the shift of focus in the 

room. He didn't feel safe being at the center of such a 

brewing storm. All his alarms were going off. He wanted to 

hide behind the nearest large piece of furniture, but knew 

he had to remain silent and as dignified as possible, lest 

he cause further embarrassment.

 

"You mewling little puke! How *dare* you alter the words of 

The Maestro's message to me?" Doggett stalked the three 

paces to where the man stood, and leaned into his face. 

"The first fucking thing you learn in basic is to follow 

orders!"

 

"Yes, Sir!" the Marine said, swallowing.

 

"What did you say?" Doggett shouted. "I can't fucking hear 

you!"

 

"Sir, yes Sir!" the Marine shouted back.

 

"Louder!" Doggett shouted.

 

"Sir, yes Sir!" the Marine barked, louder this time.

 

"When you carry a message, you repeat precisely what your 

Master tells you to say. Do you understand?"

 

"Sir, yes Sir!"

 

"And what was that message, you pig sucking excuse for a 

bottom? I want to hear the exact words The Maestro sent for 

me!" Doggett was warming up to the Drill Instructor role 

now. He hadn't played it in quite some time, and the little 

worm really deserved public humiliation for what he'd done.

 

"Sir, I was instructed to invite you and your guest to meet 

with The Maestro!"

 

Doggett grabbed the man's dogtags. "That was *not* what I 

asked you! I asked you to give me The Maestro's message, 

not your worthless interpretation of it. Do you understand 

English, boy?"

 

Byers was trembling minutely with embarrassment, but 

surprised to discover that much of what he felt was 

actually excitement, arousal, and admiration for Doggett's 

handling of the situation.

 

"Sir, yes Sir! The Maestro said to tell you, 'The Maestro 

requests the honor of The Sergeant's presence, and that of 

his guest, for a drink and private conversation, Sir!'" The 

Marine was sweating now.

 

Doggett's nose was nearly in the other man's eyes as he 

bellowed. "And were the words 'pussy boy' anywhere in that 

message, ass wipe?"

 

Byers blushed bright red, thoroughly embarrassed. He 

swallowed and held his ground near Doggett's side.

 

"Sir, no Sir! They were not!"

 

"Louder, you runny little shit!"

 

"Sir, no Sir!" The Marine was trembling now. Doggett knew 

he was humiliating the arrogant little twat in front of 

some of the most important players in New York City, and 

the boy's chances of ever seeing the inside of this club 

again were shrinking with every word he shouted.

 

"You're a disgrace to that seal you wear on your shoulder, 

boy! You haven't got the discipline God gave a fucking 

squid!" 

 

The Marine snapped his head back as though struck. Doggett 

grinned evilly, knowing that to imply the boy was worse 

than a sailor was about as insulting as one could get to a 

Marine.

 

"Sir, yes Sir!"

 

"What are you, you cunt?"

 

"A disgrace to the Corps, Sir!"

 

"And what else?" Doggett stepped forward again, closing the 

distance the young Marine had tried to open.

 

The Marine looked confused.

 

"Are you that motherfucking clueless?" Doggett screamed at 

him. "You are a disgrace to The Maestro, and a disgrace to 

whatever excuse for a Master might have attempted to train 

you!"

 

The Marine was bright red now, sweat rolling down his face 

and torso. "Sir, yes Sir! I'm a disgrace to the Maestro, 

Sir, and to my Master as well!"

 

"Who trained you?"

 

"Master Tracey, Sir!"

 

Doggett released the Marine's dogtags with a shove that 

knocked him off balance. "You *never* diss another man's 

sub! You *never* insult a guest at this club! And you 

*never* pull a stunt like that again!"

 

"Sir, yes Sir!"

 

"And now, you pansy assed wannabe, you're going to 

apologize to my sub!"

 

The Marine's eyes went wide, as did Byers'. Doggett turned 

and motioned Byers forward.

 

Hesitantly, Byers stepped up, regaining his composure.

 

Doggett turned his attention back to the Marine. "Look at 

this man," he commanded. The Marine raised his head and 

looked at Byers.

 

"What the hell do you think makes you better than him?" 

Doggett shouted. "Your job? Your workout routine? Your 

nonexistent dick? Your fucking lack of brains?"

 

The Marine stood silent, shaking.

 

"Answer me!"

 

The Marine remained silent.

 

"I said, answer me!" Doggett looked to Brentali. The Marine 

looked back and forth between them.

 

"Sir," the Marine said, quiet and hesitant, "I... he looks 

like a wimp, Sir."

 

"What did you say?" Doggett shouted. "I didn't hear you!"

 

The Marine swallowed, then shouted, "Sir! He looks like a 

wimp, Sir!"

 

Byers wished the floor would swallow him.

 

Doggett shoved the Marine to the floor. "Get on your knees 

in front of him, boy!"

 

"Sir, yes Sir!" The Marine crawled from where he'd been 

knocked to the ground to kneel in front of Byers.

 

"Who told you you could have an opinion?" Doggett shouted. 

"If The Maestro wants you to have an opinion, he'll give 

you one. Do I make myself clear?"

 

"Sir, yes Sir!" the kneeling Marine shouted.

 

Doggett put a hand on Byers' shoulder. "This man is a 

better human being than you could ever hope to be," he 

growled. "You should pray to God that someday you're as 

decent as he is. He's a fine man, and a good sub, and he 

knows how to behave in public, unlike you." 

 

Byers blushed, taking in the reassuring warmth of Doggett's 

touch. Suddenly, this wasn't quite as awful as it had been 

a few seconds ago. His fear and anxiety had been transmuted 

to pride, reveling in Doggett's defense of him and his 

honor. He let the feeling wash over him, gratified, though 

slightly embarrassed at his Master's praise.

 

"Sir, yes Sir!" the Marine shouted again.

 

"Apologize to him, you worthless shit."

 

The Marine looked up at Byers. "Sir, I offer my sincerest 

apologies, Sir! Please, I beg you to forgive me for my 

insult, Sir!" The apology was offered at full volume.

 

Doggett looked at Byers, who nodded. 

 

"And now, you're going to kiss his feet."

 

The Marine looked up at Doggett, astonished.

 

"His... his feet, Sir?" the Marine asked.

 

"You dare question me at a moment like this?" Doggett 

bellowed.

 

"Sir, no Sir!" 

 

"Then do it!"

 

The Marine leaned down and quickly kissed Byers' left foot. 

 

Byers watched, fascinated. He was almost able to ignore the 

bondage around his cock and balls for this. The feeling of 

having the man kneeling before him was stimulating in a way 

he'd never experienced before. It felt strange, but very, 

very good. He wondered if this was what it felt like to be 

a Dom.

 

"I want to see your tongue on his shoe!" Doggett shouted.

 

"Sir, yes Sir!" The Marine licked Byers' left foot slowly, 

several times, kissing it again, then did the same to his 

right foot.

 

Doggett turned to Brentali. "He's all yours, Maestro."

 

The room burst into applause.

 

The kneeling Marine looked up at Brentali, his eyes 

pleading.

 

Brentali shook his head. "You have been exceedingly 

disappointing, young man. I brought you here to impress the 

Sergeant. I thought perhaps he might be pleased with you 

and choose to play with you. But you have managed to 

disgrace yourself and me in a very public manner because 

you were judgmental and unable to keep your opinion to 

yourself."

 

He reached for his briefcase and opened it, pulling out a 

cell phone.

 

"Please, Sir," the Marine said, "please don't call him!" He 

crawled to Brentali's feet and curled himself around them, 

his body in a posture of abject submission.

 

He dialed, and waited a moment. "Yes -- Tracey? Sergio. I'm 

afraid I'll not be borrowing any of your toys anymore." He 

paused for a long moment. 

 

"Please, Maestro! No!" The Marine's voice cracked as he 

pleaded.

 

"No, no, it won't do," Brentali continued. "No. He cannot 

carry the simplest message, Tracey. He utterly humiliated 

me in front of a dear old friend, and a room full of 

people. No, Tracey, I'm afraid not. No, and he won't be 

welcome back either."

 

Brentali ended the call and placed his phone back into the 

briefcase.

 

"Sir! Maestro! Please, Sir, let me have another chance!" 

The young man's face twisted and he choked back a sob. "Let 

me prove myself to you!"

 

"You do not deserve another chance, boy. The only thing you 

have managed to prove is what kind of useless, disgraceful 

scum you are."

 

The Marine clung to the cloth of Brentali's pants leg, 

begging loudly and groveling like a whipped dog. "Please, 

Maestro! Punish me! Beat me! Do anything to me, Sir! I'll 

do anything for another chance, Maestro!" He was weeping 

openly now, sniffling as his nose ran.

 

Brentali shook his head, his eyes cold with rage. "You are 

not worthy of my correction, boy. It is patently obvious 

that you are too stupid to learn even the simplest task. 

Your current behavior only insults me further."

 

"Sir!" the Marine wailed, "please! Another chance!"

 

"Get out of my sight," Brentali snapped, his voice low and 

glacial. Byers shuddered hearing it, and hoped he would 

never feel such anger turned on him by anyone. "Take your 

shirt and leave. You are not welcome to return to this 

club. Never show your face to me again." He dropped a $20 

bill in front of the Marine. "Here's your cab fare."

 

"Sir, yes Sir!" the Marine shouted, his face etched with 

tears and misery. He did as he was told and was escorted 

into the elevator by one of the club's staff, and the crowd 

of men who had been watching dispersed again. The men doing 

the harness demonstration picked up where they'd left off.

 

Brentali sighed and turned to Doggett and Byers. "Now that 

that unpleasantness has been dealt with, please accept my 

deepest and most sincere apologies, both of you. Would you 

be so kind as to join me?"

 

Doggett nodded. "You handled it well, Sergio. I'm 

impressed. Gettin' in public licks at Tracey, too. That's 

class."

 

"It's good to have you back, John. No one does Drill 

Instructor like you. The military fetishists will be 

following you around all night." Brentali grinned. "Have 

you showed your Mr. Byers around the place yet?"

 

"Not yet. Was gonna do that after I'd let dinner settle a 

little."

 

"Well, perhaps this would be the time for it," Brentali 

said. He motioned for them to follow. "Your composure was 

elegant during that demonstration," he said to Byers. "You 

reacted well to a stressful situation."

 

"Thank you, Maestro," Byers said. He relaxed slightly, 

sighing in relief as Doggett ran a hand down his back. His 

restrained dick and balls were reminding him urgently of 

their needful agitation, and he was startled to realize how 

hot the whole situation had left him. Byers had been afraid 

of doing or saying something wrong, never having been 

witness to such a scene before. He was relieved that his 

reactions were considered appropriate. He also desperately 

wanted relief from the pressure in his pants.

 

They were interrupted by three young men in desert cammies. 

"Sergeant," the Asian said, with a salute. "Corporal 

Kimitaka. My associates, Privates Fitzpatrick and 

Szymborzski." The two others saluted as well.

 

Doggett looked at them and returned the young men's 

salutes. "What can I do for you, Corporal?" 

 

"Sir, we... well, we wondered if you might consider joining 

us later this evening at our barracks. We haven't been 

inspected in quite some time, and I'm sure that some 

disciplinary action may be required." Kimitaka grinned.

 

Doggett smiled and chuckled. "I might consider it under 

other circumstances, Corporal, but I have other plans for 

the evening." He slid an arm around Byers, caressing his 

back, then pulling the bearded man closer to him in a 

possessive gesture. 

 

Byers leaned into Doggett's body, enjoying the contact, 

relishing Doggett's attention and the assertion of his 

mastery. He allowed himself a small, ever so slightly smug 

smile and a contented sigh.

 

The Corporal raised an eyebrow and smiled. "The Sergeant's, 

ah, U.N. Advisor would be most welcome to come and... 

observe the proceedings if you wish. Perhaps he'd like to 

do a little inspecting himself?" Kimitaka winked at Byers. 

"We're not sure if we completely comply with U.N. weapons 

guidelines."

 

"Yes, Sir," Fitzpatrick added, eyes alight. "We might even 

need to be searched for contraband."

 

Szymborzski nodded eagerly. 

 

"Full body cavity searches," Fitzpatrick continued.

 

"Absolutely, Sarge," Szymborzski said. "We could spit-shine 

your boots for you, too."

 

Doggett laughed. "I see," he said. "Let me see your boots, 

soldier."

 

The three straightened to attention. Doggett looked them up 

and down, and gave particular attention to the shine on 

their combat boots. They'd done a pretty good job, but he 

figured he could play with them a little, considering their 

invitation.

 

"Fitzpatrick," he barked, "what the hell is that scuff on 

your ankle?"

 

"Scuff, Sir?" The Private looked down at his boots.

 

"Keep your head up, boy! You move when I tell you to move!" 

Doggett's command wasn't at anywhere near the volume he'd 

used to address the young Marine a few minutes prior, but 

it was quite apparent that it excited the young fetishist.

 

"Sir, yes Sir!" Fitzpatrick responded.

 

"Drop and give me ten!" Doggett snapped.

 

Fitzpatrick nearly glowed with delight as he dropped to the 

floor and cheerfully counted off ten precise pushups. Byers 

watched, fascinated, as the others looked on with what 

seemed like a twinge of jealousy on their faces.

 

At ten, Fitzpatrick rose and stood at attention beside his 

companions.

 

Doggett nodded. "You goons are a sorry lot," he said with a 

smile. "You obviously need work on your technique. 

Unfortunately, I'm not assigned here."

 

With a sharp flick of his wrist, Corporal Kimitaka flipped 

a business card from his pocket into his fingers. "If the 

Sergeant would like?"

 

Doggett laughed. "Well, Corporal, maybe next time I'm TDY 

here, I can check in at your barracks and do a surprise 

inspection." He took the card from the man's fingers, 

examined it, and slid it into his wallet.

 

"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!" Kimitaka responded. All three 

of the men were grinning broadly. "If the Advisor is with 

you at that time, he's more than welcome as well." The two 

Privates nodded enthusiastically.

 

"Very well," Doggett said. "Dismissed!"

 

The three headed for the bar, talking excitedly among 

themselves.

 

"Are you serious about that?" Byers asked. It had all 

seemed so casual.

 

Doggett smiled gently at Byers, pressing the man's waist to 

his body. "Who knows when I might end up out here alone 

sometime and want somebody to play with? You're not jealous 

are you?" Doggett placed a soft kiss on Byers' neck.

 

Byers thought for a moment. "No, I guess not," he said. It 

wasn't like their relationship was that close, he thought, 

though it seemed they were becoming friends. There wasn't 

anything to be jealous of, really, as they had been 

together exactly once in the entire time they'd known each 

other, until this weekend. He had nothing to lose, so long 

as Doggett was careful and didn't expose himself to 

anything communicable.

 

Brentali chuckled. "Would you like to see the club's 

facilities, Mr. Byers?"

 

Byers turned his head toward Brentali. "Oh, uh, yes, 

Maestro. Thank you."

 

"Come on, Johnny," Doggett said, guiding Byers toward a 

hallway. "There's a lot of stuff here. I'm sure you'll find 

some of it quite interesting."

 

In the hallway on either side, Brentali showed him a 

conference room and a quiet conversation room. The 

conversation room had a small group of men talking in it, 

though the larger conference room was empty and darkened. 

Its picture window shared the view of the city and Central 

Park that could be seen from the main room and the bar. It 

was beautiful with twilight coming on.

 

Ascending the stairs, there were several small private and 

semi-private rooms, some with beds, others with tile floors 

and tables designed to be easy to clean. Most were 

occupied, so he was only able to see two of them. A first 

aid room was here as well, unoccupied, but equipped with a 

note giving the name of the doctor on the premises for the 

night. There was a changing room, a linen and clothing 

check counter, a large public bathroom with showers and two 

sauna rooms, and two dungeons, one rather larger than the 

other. They were heavy with the scent of leather and sex, 

and to Byers' inexperienced eye, seemed quite fully 

equipped. Both were occupied by several couples and groups, 

and men watching in various states of undress or sexual 

activity. 

 

Byers resisted a strong urge to ask permission to stay and 

watch the players, even though he felt that such voyeurism 

on his part was not entirely appropriate. The leather 

binding his genitals continued to remind him of its 

presence. He groaned softly, almost inaudibly. From the 

corner of his eye, he could see Doggett smile at the sound. 

His Master's hand drifted softly over his ass, and he took 

a sharp, aroused breath.

 

The stairs then led them up to the roof, where there was a 

large fenced off and finished area with hot tubs -- all of 

them occupied by groups of varying numbers. One contained 

an orgy in progress. There were also cafe tables and 

chairs, and lounge chairs for sunbathing, as well as a 

massage table, which miraculously seemed to be in use for 

its given purpose.

 

Byers felt overwhelmed by the amount of raw sexuality 

around him. He'd never had the nerve to enter a bath house, 

much less a club of this nature, public or private. He 

wasn't sure whether he was more aroused or intimidated by 

the situation, though his arousal was loud and insistent.

 

Doggett noted Byers' nervousness, and as Brentali rattled 

on about the club's amenities, he paused and nuzzled Byers' 

ear. "You doin' okay, Johnny?" he asked quietly. "Is this 

too much for you?" He knew the man was painfully shy, and 

it was quite possible that the experience was getting a bit 

too exotic for him.

 

"I'm okay, I think," Byers answered. "I was actually more 

nervous while you were giving that guy hell downstairs. But 

this is... very different than what I'm used to."

 

Doggett nodded and kissed Byers' ear. "Do you think you're 

still up for what we discussed this afternoon? Do you still 

want to try that?"

 

Byers turned his face to Doggett's and kissed him briefly. 

He nodded. "Yes. Thank you for asking, Sir."

 

"The same boundaries?" Doggett's body ached with desire for 

the slender man. His sub was doing so well, and he was 

proud of him. He only wished that Byers had more experience 

in the scene; he wanted to lead the younger man into the 

dungeon and give him a chance to be the man on the cross. 

Doggett did his best to ignore the heat in his own 

hardening rod. The image of Byers in such a position wasn't 

helping his composure at all.

 

Byers nodded again. They'd talked at some length on their 

way back from the park about what would be acceptable in 

terms of touch, exposure, and how public it could be. He 

felt some nervousness, but was reasonably comfortable with 

their agreement for the evening. He also knew that he could 

stop things at any time if he felt they were getting out of 

hand, and that Doggett would respect his limits and enforce 

them on Brentali if the man chose to play. Considering 

Brentali's earlier reaction to him, however, Byers was sure 

he would accept. The thought sent a sensual electric 

shimmer through his body.

 

"So, what do you think of our fine establishment?" Brentali 

asked, turning to the two men when they had once again 

reached the second floor. He smiled, eyes on Byers as he 

observed Doggett's enveloping posture, the Dom's arms 

wrapped around Byers from behind. Their mutual arousal was 

obvious. Brentali sighed.

 

Doggett and Byers straightened up again. "It's really quite 

impressive, Maestro," Byers said.

 

"John, would you and your guest join me in the quiet room 

downstairs for a while? We could talk, or..."

 

Doggett nodded. "Love to, Sergio." He traced his fingers 

softly along Byers' throat to the collar of his shirt as he 

released him, knowing Brentali was watching their every 

move carefully for some sign of what might happen next. The 

move had been calculated to tease the other Dom, even as it 

gave pleasure to his sub. He was looking forward to the 

look on Brentali's face when he realized what was being 

offered, however limited the scope. The Italian's 

expression shifted from polite, casual interest to one of 

dark hunger in a single liquid moment. 

 

The hair on Doggett's skin rose at the man's sudden 

metamorphosis from host to rival for alpha status. The game 

was on. 

 

The quiet room was still occupied by the same group of men 

who had been there when their tour started, but they 

entered anyway. The room was large enough to accommodate 

everyone with enough space to respect quiet conversation. 

Doggett had no plans for this game to get noisy.

 

Brentali sat in one of the large, plush chairs, and 

motioned for Doggett and Byers to sit. 

 

Doggett nodded, then placed a hand on Byers' shoulder. 

"Hands behind your back," he said quietly. Brentali's eyes 

widened as Doggett pulled his cuffs from his pocket and 

snapped them around Byers' wrists.

 

Byers' breath caught, and his heart began beating wildly. 

It was really going to happen. He was excited and afraid at 

the same time. He wondered if he'd be able to go through 

with it.

 

When Doggett sat and pulled Byers down into his lap facing 

Brentali, the Italian's eyes glowed with hope, and the 

hunger in them intensified. Doggett spread Byers' knees 

open over his own legs, and made the sub lean back into his 

chest. 

 

Byers rested his hands between Doggett's legs. His already 

hard cock was beginning to throb. The sigh he started 

turned into a quiet, needy groan.

 

Brentali pulled his chair much closer, until he was nearly 

knee to knee with Doggett. "What will you do?" he asked 

breathlessly.

 

"You'll see soon enough," Doggett said, a teasing grin on 

his face. He kissed Byers' cheek and let Byers lean his 

head back onto his shoulder, cradling the man gently. He 

ran his hands over the length of Byers' body, from the top 

of his shoulders down to his knees. 

 

Byers arched into Doggett's moving hands, biting his lower 

lip. "Uhhhhh..." The sound was soft, breathless. His entire 

body was tingling where he'd been caressed.

 

Brentali's eyes were riveted on Byers. "Beautiful," he 

whispered. "So sensitive."

 

Doggett could see Brentali's body react to the scene he was 

staging. The man was hooked. 

 

Brentali reached out with one hand, leaning forward, then 

pulled his hand back.

 

"Not yet," Doggett said. "Just watch."

 

Brentali grinned, delight on his face.

 

Doggett's hands went to the knot on Byers' tie and began to 

loosen it. Byers shifted his weight slightly and settled 

more easily into Doggett's lap, enjoying the fingers at his 

throat. Unknotting the tie, Doggett let the silk fall on 

either side of Byers' chest and began to slowly unfasten 

the buttons of Byers' white shirt, kissing his neck as he 

loosed the top two buttons.

 

All three of them were breathing more heavily now. Byers 

stretched his neck back to give Doggett more access, his 

mouth open in a quiet moan. The fear he felt only 

intensified the pleasure he experienced as he watched 

Brentali watching him. It gave a sharp, dangerous edge to 

his excitement.

 

He could see Brentali's growing interest as Doggett slowly, 

torturously unbuttoned his shirt and stroked his skin as it 

was revealed. The Italian's fingers were clenched into the 

arms of his chair, flexing as he strove to keep his hands 

still.

 

"Bello, bello," Brentali whispered.

 

"Do you like what you see, Sergio?" Doggett asked.

 

Brentali tore his eyes from Byers. "You cruel bastard," he 

said. "You know I do."

 

Byers' shirt was open to the middle of his chest now. He'd 

never felt so naked in his life. Between Doggett's 

maddening hands and the smoldering intensity of Brentali's 

eyes looking into his soul, he might as well have been nude 

in the middle of Times Square.

 

Doggett chuckled. "You'll be able to touch soon enough," he 

said. 

 

He ran his open palm across Byers' smooth chest, gently 

caressing the bearded man's hard, peaked nipples. Byers 

gasped and arched into his hand. Doggett's rod leaped at 

Byers' motion, the bound man's hands unintentionally 

sliding against it, and they both moaned. He continued the 

motion down into his sub's shirt, caressing his stomach, 

sliding his fingers through his shallow navel, brushing his 

skin softly down to the waist of Byers' pants.

 

Quickly, he finished unbuttoning Byers' shirt, and pulled 

the tail out of his pants, spreading the shirt open so that 

Byers' chest and abdomen were fully exposed. Doggett slid 

the shirt and suit jacket back from Byers' shoulders, 

exposing them and restraining Byers' upper arms at the same 

time. With the shirt and jacket out of the way, both 

Doggett and Brentali could see how hard Byers was as his 

shaft twitched in his pants.

 

Teasing Brentali was fun, but Doggett's own excitement 

drove him on. He wished again that Byers was a more 

experienced player, because he wanted badly to carry this 

past their negotiated limits. He slid the tips of his 

fingers lightly along the line of Byers' cock. The slender 

man shuddered, biting his lip.

 

Despite his desires, Doggett knew he would not, could not 

push the issue. He had to allow Byers to build trust in him 

before their games could become more complicated and 

intense. If they continued to play together, Byers' trust 

would be essential. He was surprised by how much he wanted 

it. Bending over his sub's shoulder, he bit down gently 

where the man's throat met his clavicle, then sucked.

 

Byers moaned and gasped.

 

Brentali bit back a moan of his own. "Let me touch," he 

said. He was leaning close enough to catch the scent of 

Byers' arousal, and inhaled deeply, letting his breath out 

slowly.

 

"Soon," Doggett said again.

 

Through the building waves of sensation in his body, Byers 

realized the power he had at his disposal. Though he was 

restrained, his body spread over Doggett's and exposed to 

public view, he loved the feeling of having these two 

powerful, dominant men openly expressing their desire for 

him. Knowing that despite the appearance of helplessness, 

he could stop things at any time with the signal he'd 

arranged with Doggett, left him feeling a greater sense of 

control than he could have imagined when he fantasized 

about being in such a situation.

 

"John!"

 

Doggett could hear the desperate desire in Brentali's 

voice. It was time.

 

"If you want to touch, you'll follow my rules," Doggett 

said, asserting his control of the scene.

 

Brentali nodded, his eyes fixed on Byers' body. "Si, Si. 

What are your conditions?"

 

"You can only touch his exposed skin, Sergio. You can only 

use your hands and mouth. You don't touch him with the rest 

of your body. You don't go exploring off the map. You stop 

when I tell you to stop." Doggett reached out and touched 

Brentali's shoulder. "Do you agree?"

 

Brentali looked up at him, eyes greedy. "Oh, yes. 

Absolutely." He leaned closer to Byers and delicately 

touched his face with the tips of his fingers, running them 

along the slender man's cheekbone, then tracing the line of 

his beard. As his fingers moved, he ran his thumb along 

Byers' lips. "So soft," he whispered.

 

Byers shivered at Brentali's touch, opening his lips 

slightly as Brentali's thumb ran along them. "Suck, boy," 

Brentali said, his voice soft but demanding. The Dom 

started to slide his thumb into Byers' open mouth, but 

Doggett pulled his wrist back.

 

"No penetration of any kind," he said. "You let him lick if 

he wants to, but keep your fingers out of his mouth. And 

everything else." He knew Brentali was opening his game 

with a subtle attempt to gain control of the situation, but 

Doggett wasn't about to let him get away with it.

 

Brentali sighed and shook his head, visibly disappointed 

that his test of the limits had been spotted so quickly. 

"You were always a difficult man. So possessive." He 

grinned. "You have such a way of sucking the fun out of 

everything." 

 

"I know how much you want him," Doggett said. "I don't 

think I'm depriving you of your fun at all. I think you're 

enjoying the hell out of yourself, and we both know this is 

better than just watching." His hands moved over Byers' 

body constantly as they bantered back and forth, pulling 

moans from the man as he squirmed in his lap. He reached 

down deliberately as Brentali watched, and squeezed Byers' 

cock, emphasizing his possession and authority.

 

Byers groaned and thrust into Doggett's hand.

 

Brentali slid to his knees between Byers and Doggett's 

legs, and leaned in, slipping his hands around Byers' waist 

and taking the sub's nipple in his mouth. He sucked hard 

and nipped, making Byers groan again, louder, then slid his 

tongue down the restrained man's body, leaving a trail of 

kisses to the waistband of his pants.

 

Doggett licked Byers' ear and whispered, "Are you okay with 

this?"

 

Byers, unable to form a verbal reply, just nodded. The two 

men's hands and mouths on his body were incredible but 

terrifying. He wanted this. He needed it. It scared the 

hell out of him. When Doggett had pulled Brentali back a 

moment before, he knew that his Master would keep to the 

set limits. It was a relief that allowed him to start to 

genuinely relax into the sensuality of the men's touches 

and explorations of his body. Under the fear, he knew he 

could so easily lose himself in this, push himself far 

beyond the point where he would regret his actions when he 

was done. It was good that his Master would keep him safe.

 

Doggett ran his nails up Byers' sides as Brentali bit at 

his stomach. Byers writhed between them, gasping and 

whimpering.

 

"No marks," Doggett said. "Don't leave any marks on him."

 

"Spoilsport," Brentali muttered.

 

Their voices were gruff with desire and the undercurrent of 

their rivalry. Byers' head rolled to the side as the two 

Doms competed to take their pleasure in him. Opening his 

eyes, he realized that the men who had been talking when 

they arrived had started watching them. One was stroking 

himself as he watched. Two of the others had started 

playing with each other.

 

Byers' embarrassment at becoming a public spectacle only 

drove him further into his arousal. Strangely enough, in 

his mind, this closed room and these five watching men 

didn't really seem to qualify as "public." The space was 

quiet except for the soft sound of voices, and his own 

harsh breathing as Doggett and Brentali pushed him further 

and further into mindless pleasure. 

 

Doggett's attention was partly on Brentali, but the feel of 

Byers moving in his arms, his bound hands sliding against 

his rod as he squirmed and moaned, was incredibly erotic. 

The slender man was fiery with passion and almost feral in 

his response to their touches, their strokes, their wet, 

licking mouths. Byers radiated heat and intoxicating 

sensuality, a wildness growing in him that delighted 

Doggett. He held Byers tighter, resisting the almost 

overpowering urge to reach into his pants and pull out his 

bound dick and balls to play with.

 

Byers was only vaguely aware of his own moans and the way 

his hips were bucking into Doggett's hands caressing the 

inside of his thighs, touching his cock and balls as he 

floated in a delirium of erotic sensation. The leather 

binding his equipment was, however, sharply on his mind as 

it pressed into his hard, hot flesh. It was exquisite. The 

more aroused he became, the tighter the harness held him. 

It was bringing him to that edge of intensely sexual pain 

that he craved. It was, in a way, a better, lighter pain 

than the slaps he liked to feel against his erection. He 

realized he could take more of this, for a longer time.

 

"Aaaaaaaaah," he gasped, as Doggett pinched his nipples 

hard. 

 

He shuddered as Brentali's fingers played him like a lute, 

the delicate finger tips finding the most sensitive spots 

on his exposed flesh and pressing, scratching, and 

pinching. "Maestro," Byers whispered.

 

Brentali grinned up at Doggett, then bent to kiss and suck 

Byers' throat, moaning in his own pleasure. Looking up, he 

said, "I want to see his cock. Take it out. Let me touch 

him."

 

Doggett shook his head. "No," he panted, though he wanted 

very much to do just that.

 

Brentali was leaning back now, caressing his own erection 

through his pants. After a moment, he unzipped his fly and 

pulled it out, stroking himself. "Let me take him. Let me 

fuck him in your arms, John."

 

"No," Doggett growled. The sight of Brentali on his knees, 

caressing his long shaft as he watched Byers writhe in 

Doggett's arms was powerfully erotic. If he hadn't agreed 

to Byers' limits, he would have been seriously tempted to 

let Brentali do it. The thought of watching Brentali fuck 

Byers, of feeling his sub writhe and buck in his arms under 

Brentali's body, was seriously turning him on.

 

"Then take him yourself and let me watch," Brentali begged. 

"Let me see you bury yourself in his ass. I want to watch 

you fuck him. Take him hard, John. You know you want him."

 

Byers' heart was pounding wildly, listening to Brentali's 

incredible requests. He could hear groans from the men 

across the room, and one shouted, coming as he watched. For 

a moment, he wanted Doggett to do it -- to strip his pants 

from him right there and fuck him while Brentali watched. 

He wanted Doggett to show the man who he really belonged 

to, wanted Doggett to take him, to thrust into him hard and 

deep and make him come. Nothing came out of his mouth but 

senseless moans, and he was grateful for the mercy because 

he knew that if he could speak, he would beg his Master to 

fuck him. 

 

Byers also knew, deep in his gut, that if that happened, it 

would ruin everything. There would be no possibility of 

trust between them. His fantasy and the reality had to 

diverge here.

 

"No!" Doggett snapped. "He's mine. You know the rules, 

Sergio." Doggett held Byers tightly in his arms, pressing 

his hips into Byers' body, wishing he could turn Byers over 

the arm of the chair and take him. He was well aware of the 

other men's fascination with the scene, and he could see by 

the look in Brentali's eyes that the other Dom was close to 

orgasm. He'd push, and make Brentali come, just because he 

knew he could.

 

With a swift movement, he slid his arms around Byers' 

chest and lifted his body until they were both standing. 

Brentali's face was nearly in Byers' crotch once they were 

upright. Byers was gasping, his knees weak, his head 

lolling back on Doggett's shoulder. Brentali stroked 

himself harder and faster, moaning.

 

Doggett shoved the chair he'd been sitting in back slightly 

with the weight of his body. "Look at him, Sergio," Doggett 

growled. He buried his face in Byers' neck for a moment, 

biting down and sucking below the line of his collar. Byers 

shouted and bucked against him.

 

"Look at him. This man is mine." Doggett ran one hand down 

Byers' body, sliding it down to his crotch and cupping it. 

"His mouth is mine. His cock is mine. His ass is mine. "

 

Byers was panting, close to the edge, but not close enough. 

His Master's words sank into him, sending tremors through 

his body. He was in ecstasy, close to physical collapse.

 

"His body is mine," Doggett snapped. "Look how hot he is, 

Sergio. Look how ready he is. He'd do anything I told him 

right now. And I know what you like. He loves to suck cock. 

He'd suck your cock like an angel, Sergio, and he'd make 

you scream when you come, but he's mine."

 

Brentali grunted, squeezing and beating his shaft hard, 

then howled as he came, kneeling in front of Doggett and 

Byers. Gasping, he leaned forward on one hand, still 

holding himself with the other. His body shook, and he sank 

back against his chair to rest.

 

"Damn you, John. You really know how to mess with a man's 

head."

 

Doggett stood, embracing Byers tightly in his arms, both of 

them trembling. "And you love it," he said, triumph in his 

voice.

 

Brentali chuckled breathlessly and nodded.

 

"God," one of the men across the room muttered, gasping. 

 

Doggett looked over at them and gave them a wry grin.

 

"Nice, Sarge," another of the men said.

 

Doggett nodded. Byers' knees gave out and he started to 

fall, but Doggett's hold on him was firm and strong. He 

moved Byers and settled him gently into the big leather 

chair they'd both occupied only moments before.

 

Kneeling next to Byers, he cradled his face in the palm of 

his hand. "You gonna be okay, Johnny?" 

 

The next thing Doggett knew, Brentali was kneeling next to 

him, a careful hand on Byers' knee. "Is he all right?" The 

concern in his voice was obvious.

 

"Fine," Byers whispered. "I'm okay." He was still breathing 

hard, but starting to come down from the intense sexual 

high. He hadn't come, but he felt drained.

 

Doggett looked at Brentali. "I think this was just a little 

much for him," he said. "I should take him back to the 

hotel and put him to bed. He's never done anything like 

this before."

 

"He hasn't?" Brentali said.

 

"Very new to the scene," Doggett replied, caressing Byers' 

face and neck. 

 

"He did extraordinarily well," Brentali said. "I'm quite 

impressed."

 

Doggett nodded, watching Byers carefully. "We'll see how 

he's doing tomorrow, when he's had some rest."

 

"You'll let me know, won't you?"

 

Doggett looked back at Brentali. "Yeah, Sergio. I will. 

Thanks."

 

"Let me help you get him back together," Brentali said.

 

"Okay." He handed Brentali the key to the handcuffs, then 

started buttoning Byers' shirt back up. He didn't do the 

top two buttons or put his tie back on. 

 

Brentali handed the key and cuffs to Doggett. "I'll get him 

some water."

 

"Excellent idea," Doggett said. "Johnny, talk to me. How 

are you?"

 

"Floating," Byers said quietly, eyes half open. "Want 

you..."

 

"Later," Doggett said, smiling.

 

One of the men who'd been watching approached. "Sarge, is 

there anything else either of you needs?"

 

Doggett looked up for a moment. "Yeah, Jazz. Would you call 

us a cab?"

 

"Of course." Jazz pulled a cell phone from his pocket and 

dialed. 

 

Brentali returned with a glass of water. "Here, Johnny," he 

said, holding it to Byers' lips.

 

Doggett stroked Byers' arms as Brentali helped the 

exhausted man drink. Jazz spoke with the dispatch as they 

tended Byers.

 

"Come on back to us, Johnny," Doggett said quietly. 

 

Byers gradually felt himself becoming more centered in his 

body. He reached for the glass, but Brentali refused to let 

him hold it alone. Byers wondered why, then realized that 

his hand was shaking. He reached out with his other hand to 

steady himself, and Brentali let him take the glass when he 

saw that Byers would be steady enough to hold it in both 

hands.

 

"Talk to me, babe," Doggett said, squeezing Byers' 

shoulder.

 

Brentali turned and stared at Doggett, saying nothing. 

 

"I'm feeling better," Byers said. "The fuzziness in my head 

is fading. I think I can focus again." He finished the 

water and handed the glass back to Brentali.

 

"The cab will be here in about five minutes," Jazz said. 

"They'll call me when it arrives."

 

"Thanks," Doggett said.

 

Byers looked down at himself. "I need to tuck in my shirt."

 

"I don't want you to try standing up just yet," Doggett 

said.

 

Byers looked around at the men gathered near him, then 

blushed scarlet. "Oh, dear," he whispered. The realization 

that he'd nearly had an orgasm in front of these strangers 

was starting to hit. His old feelings of shame and fear 

were screaming at him, but curiously, he also felt good. It 

was as though the embarrassment of the situation was but a 

candle to the brilliant light of the shared pleasure he'd 

experienced. He felt very odd and didn't know what to 

think.

 

Doggett reached out to Byers, offering the blushing man the 

shelter of his arms. Byers moved forward in the chair and 

buried himself in Doggett's embrace. "It's okay," Doggett 

whispered to him. "You were incredible. We'll be out of 

here in a few minutes, and everything will be all right."

 

Byers nodded silently into Doggett's shoulder. The other 

men left them alone, going back to their conversation. 

 

"Do you need anything else?" Brentali asked. "Will you need 

help getting him down to the cab?"

 

Doggett didn't look up. "No, Sergio, but thanks. I think 

we'll be okay. I appreciate your help."

 

"Very well, then. I'll take my leave of you. Please, 

remember to call me tomorrow and let me know how he's 

doing."

 

"I will," Doggett said. He turned his face to Brentali 

without letting go of Byers. "Thanks."

 

A cell phone rang, and a moment later, Jazz said, "Your 

cab's here, Sarge."

 

Doggett nodded. "Thanks, Jazz."

 

He slid back from Byers slowly. "Do you think you're okay 

to get up?"

 

Byers closed his eyes for a moment, trying to judge the 

state of his body. "Yeah."

 

Doggett stood and offered Byers a hand. Byers hesitated for 

a moment, but took it and stood. He was very pleased to 

find that he wasn't wobbling.

 

"Let me tuck my shirt in."

 

Doggett nodded, and Byers stuffed the tail of his shirt 

back into his pants. It wasn't a very good job, but once 

he'd buttoned his jacket over it, he figured it was good 

enough for the short trip back to the hotel.

 

Doggett slid an arm around him. "Come on. Let's blow this 

joint."

 

Byers smiled. "I haven't forgotten your promise for 

tonight," he said.

 

Doggett laughed. "If you're up to it."

 

They headed for the door.

 

PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL

ROOM 1246

NIGHT

 

Doggett flicked on the light as they entered the hotel 

suite. Byers had spent the ride back in the cab wrapped 

around him, jittering slightly and nibbling on his neck.

 

"I'm still buzzing," Byers said.

 

"I know. Do you want something to help you sleep?"

 

Byers shook his head. "I'm fine, just buzzing. I want you. 

Besides, you promised. After everything you've done to me 

today, I deserve a reward." He rubbed his still-stiff shaft 

with a quiet groan. "This thing you put on me is amazing," 

he said, his voice low and seductive.

 

Doggett sighed as he watched Byers. His hair was mussed, 

his jacket wrinkled, and the look on his face could make a 

eunuch come in his pants. "I thought you'd like it," 

Doggett said.

 

"Please, Jack." Byers put his arms around Doggett and 

kissed him hard and deep, his hands roaming over Doggett's 

body.

 

Doggett shook his head. "I'm not sure you're really up to 

it. I think you just think you are. You're exhausted, and 

you're still shaky. I don't want to take a chance on 

messin' you up."

 

Byers let go of Doggett with a snort and wandered into the 

bedroom, turning the light on in there. Doggett turned off 

the light in the main room after locking the door behind 

them, then followed Byers. He watched as Byers sat heavily 

on the bed, then slid down onto his back.

 

"Don't do this to me," Byers said, petulant. "I need a good 

fuck." Under other circumstances, Doggett would have been 

annoyed, but he knew Byers was in a much more emotionally 

fragile state than the younger man could understand. There 

would be time for explanations once they were in bed.

 

Doggett's lips twisted into a half frown. "I'm just worried 

about you. I think you pushed yourself too far at the club 

tonight. Maybe you don't feel it now, but you will by 

tomorrow. And I don't want to make things any more 

stressful for you."

 

Byers rolled to his side, then sat up again and began 

pulling his shoes off. Doggett could see he was still a 

little dizzy and unfocused. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe 

I did, but it felt... it felt good."

 

"Were you afraid?"

 

Byers nodded. "Yeah, but it was okay. If I listened to it 

all the time, I'd never do anything."

 

Doggett sat next to Byers and slid an arm around his 

shoulders as the smaller man pulled off his socks. "But 

sometimes it's there for a reason. You know that." He had 

to draw some boundaries for Byers, knowing that Byers 

wasn't able to draw them for himself again just yet. 

 

Byers leaned into Doggett's shoulder. "Are you going to tie 

me up and fuck me, or should I just take this thing off?" 

he asked, sounding dejected. He rubbed his dick again. 

Looking back up at Doggett, he started unbuttoning the 

man's shirt.

 

Doggett nuzzled Byers' neck, thinking about it. After a 

moment, he said, "I'll give you what you need, John, but I 

won't tie you up tonight. Only the leather you're already 

wearing, unless you want to take that off now too. I think 

anything else would be too much for you right now. 

Seriously."

 

"I like this," Byers said, arousal still in his voice. "I 

can't believe how good it feels. You won't tie me up?"

 

Doggett shook his head. 

 

Byers groaned. "Do you live to frustrate me or something?"

 

"I'm just looking out for you. You're still not yourself, 

here, Johnny."

 

"Please," Byers begged, his voice quiet and husky. "I want 

you. I need to have you in me. I've been going crazy all 

day. And I want to know what you think I need, Sergeant 

Dom, Sir."

 

Doggett kissed him gently and Byers clung to him, taking 

the kiss as though it were oxygen. Doggett backed off after 

a moment and said, "I think maybe you do need to be fucked, 

but nothing rough. You need to be held. You need to rest 

and let yourself come down from this properly. You need to 

talk, too. This stuff isn't just about what's happening 

with your body, Johnny; a lot of it shifts things around in 

your head, and it can leave you really vulnerable. You're 

gonna be experiencing some pretty intense emotional stuff 

for a while. But you gotta understand that I won't hurt 

you, John, or let you hurt yourself. Taking care of you 

afterwards is part of my job too."

 

"I'm fine, damn it. I want you to tie me up. I want you to 

fuck me." Byers insisted.

 

Doggett helped Byers undress, talking gently to him. "I 

know where you're at right now. I've been there myself. But 

I don't think you've ever had anything like this happen 

before, so you don't understand yet."

 

Byers shook his head, pulling his shirt and jacket off. 

"I'll be fine."

 

"Of course you will, but not in the next five minutes. 

You're feeling like something's not quite right, and like 

your body's vibrating, and your head's not quite connected 

to it, right? Like the planet's maybe not exactly on its 

axis?"

 

Byers looked at Doggett as the man unbuckled his belt. He 

took Doggett's hands in his own. "I... yeah." He nodded. 

"Yeah, I think that's where I am right now."

 

"It's okay," Doggett reassured him. "I'm right here. I know 

what to do to help you, but you've... Johnny, you have to 

just trust me on this, okay? Can you do that? You trusted 

me earlier." 

 

Byers looked like he was about to burst into tears. Doggett 

took him in his arms and held him close. "You'll be fine. 

Honest. You're just gonna feel out of it and kind of 

confused for a while, that's all."

 

"Trust is so damned hard," Byers mumbled. He sounded lost 

and afraid.

 

"I know," Doggett said gently. "It's okay. All I ask is 

that you try. Will you do that?"

 

Byers nodded and pulled himself closer to Doggett. He was 

shaking now, not just vibrating a little as he had been 

earlier, and Doggett ran a hand through his hair, kissing 

him softly. Doggett knew it would be a rough night.

 

Byers took a deep breath. Doggett could see he was trying 

to steady himself, but it wasn't having much effect.

 

"Let's finish getting you undressed," Doggett said. "And we 

should take that harness off you, too."

 

"But it feels good," Byers said, not looking up from where 

his face was buried in Doggett's shoulder.

 

"I know, but it's not something you need right now. Your 

body needs some rest, and that would only keep stressing 

it. But I promise, I'll make you feel good. Just let me 

take care of you."

 

Byers sighed and nodded, then let go of Doggett to stand 

and slip his pants and boxers off. Doggett made Byers lie 

on his back, then opened the little lock that held the 

leather bindings together, and removed them slowly and 

gently. Byers' entire body shuddered as Doggett caressed 

his shaft and balls.

 

"Yes," Byers whispered.

 

Doggett stood.

 

"Don't stop," Byers begged, whining. "Please, don't tease 

me again. I can't take it anymore. This is... I feel too 

naked without it. I really need to be tied so that I don't 

lose the feeling."

 

Doggett turned down the covers of the large bed. "I'll be 

there again in just a sec. Let me get undressed. You get 

into bed. We'll talk about it in a minute."

 

Byers rolled over and slid himself under the covers, then 

watched as Doggett finished undressing. After a few 

moments, he closed his eyes and sighed. 

 

Doggett tossed the leather harness into the bedside drawer 

and pulled out a small bottle of lube, a condom, and a pair 

of soft, padded leather wrist restraints.

 

Byers reached out as Doggett entered the bed with him, 

running a hand along his side. The contact seemed to steady 

him. "Please, Jack, please --"

 

"I'm right here. It's okay."

 

Doggett slid next to Byers, holding him for a moment, just 

watching him. Byers opened his eyes to find Doggett's eyes 

locked with his.

 

"I need this so much," Byers whispered. Doggett kissed him 

softly, and slid his hand down Byers' body. He showed Byers 

the wrist restraints. "Put them on me, please," Byers 

begged.

 

Doggett slipped the leather restraints around Byers' wrists 

and secured them, but didn't clip them together.

 

The slender man writhed, groaning. Doggett could tell he 

was still wired, still close to the edge he'd been riding 

most of the evening. "Why didn't you fasten them together?"

 

"I don't want to do anything too rough with you," Doggett 

said. "But maybe this'll be enough for you to stay in that 

space you need, without being too much for you right now."

 

Byers whined, but the leather did feel good around his 

wrists. Maybe it would work. It was soothing to have them 

on. The leather was soft, and they were fastened tight 

enough to feel right, but the padding protected his wrists 

from any damage, or from having his circulation cut off. 

"Fuck me, damn it." He slid his body against Doggett's, 

demanding and almost frantic.

 

Doggett pressed him back down on his back, then rolled a 

condom onto himself. He slicked his fingers and slid one 

into the man in his arms. He knew it wouldn't take much to 

bring Byers off. Byers groaned and arched into Doggett's 

hand. 

 

"It's okay, it's okay," Doggett whispered to him. "Relax. 

Give me time to open you up so I won't hurt you." 

 

A second finger, then a third slowly joined the first as 

Byers moved sensually next to him. The bearded man had 

moved beyond the realm of speech into eloquent bodily need.

 

Doggett slicked himself, and crawled onto Byers' body, 

bringing the man's knees up past his hips. Byers moaned, 

long and low. Doggett entered him slowly, groaning at the 

feeling, and Byers keened and pulled at Doggett's ass and 

thighs, trying to get him into his body deeper and faster. 

Doggett resisted Byers' urgings, and his own instincts, 

keeping a very slow, gentle pace as he planted himself in 

Byers to the root. He could feel his balls rub softly 

against Byers' ass.

 

"Give it to me," Byers moaned. "Please -- harder --" His 

voice faded into incoherent groans as Doggett thrust into 

him slow but hard.

 

"God," Doggett groaned. "Oh, god, Johnny." He hadn't 

realized how much he needed this as well. He held Byers 

tight, chest to chest, and kissed him deeply. They both 

moaned into each other's mouths as their slow, intensely 

erotic dance continued.

 

The fullness and friction of Doggett's slow movements in 

and out of his body pushed Byers beyond the end of his 

endurance, and he came quickly, bucking into Doggett's 

solid body on top of him. He cried out, incoherent. The 

weight and heat of his Master's body and the feel of the 

leather around his wrists was comforting, and he clung to 

Doggett's solidity, the only stability in his world in that 

moment.

 

Doggett kept to his slow, steady pace as Byers shuddered 

under him. "You feel so good," he whispered, panting, 

sucking Byers' ear. "God, you're good." He thrust deeper 

into the man beneath him, still slow but unable to resist 

responding to his body's own deepening need. His balls 

tightened, and he used all his strength to ride Byers, 

grunting and shouting as he came deep inside him.

 

He held Byers for a few moments, letting his weight rest on 

his sub. Byers moaned again and held him tight, his entire 

body trembling.

 

"Jack," Byers whispered. "My god." Doggett's weight felt 

good. It was as though the Dom's body was pressing him back 

into himself, the restraints at his wrists holding him 

together. He was light headed and floating from the orgasm, 

but no longer felt as though his brain was half a mile from 

his body. Despite his shaking limbs, he felt steadier than 

before they'd begun. 

 

Byers felt tears start, but didn't bother to hold them 

back, though he wasn't sure why he was crying. He thought 

maybe it was his relief that brought them on. He felt like 

an immense buildup of pressure had left his body through 

his orgasm, and that the remainder was flowing away with 

his tears. There were no body-shaking sobs, merely the 

soft, silent running of warm salten liquid down his cheeks.

 

Doggett, still buried deep in Byers' body, raised his face 

and saw the tears. "How do you feel?" he asked quietly. 

Before Byers could answer, Doggett was wiping the tears 

away with his fingers.

 

"Better," Byers answered. "Steadier. Calmer."

 

Doggett nodded. "Good. Do you want me to move yet?"

 

Byers shook his head. "No, please stay here for a while. I 

need this. It feels good."

 

"All right." 

 

Doggett kissed Byers, and he responded, gently this time. 

The sense of urgency was slowly being replaced with a 

feeling of peace and contentment. Byers could feel 

exhaustion settling in on him like a heavy blanket. He 

wanted to fall asleep like this, with Doggett in him, on 

him. Was this what trust felt like, he wondered. It had 

been so long he wasn't sure he'd recognize it when he found 

it.

 

Again, Doggett had kept a promise. But the physical things 

were easy, Byers knew. It was the emotional promises that 

were hard, and betrayals often took a long time to make 

themselves known. He wanted to trust Doggett, but knew he 

still had to keep a certain distance, even now. He had to 

wait and watch, had to let Doggett prove that he wouldn't 

betray him, wouldn't turn out to be on the wrong side of 

the lines of force and power that surrounded his life so 

tightly.

 

His paranoia and his desire for closeness warred within 

him. He sighed as Doggett held him, feeling cared for, but 

not knowing if his own emotions were trustworthy.

 

"Where are you, Johnny?" Doggett asked. "Talk to me."

 

"Just thinking."

 

"About what?"

 

Byers hesitated, but saw the concern in Doggett's eyes and 

decided to be truthful rather than evade his feelings. 

"Paranoia. Fear. Betrayal." He paused and took a breath. 

"Trust." He rubbed the leather restraints at his wrists.

 

Doggett nodded. "Thanks for not brushin' it off," he said, 

"not brushin' me off. I know none of this comes easy for 

you." He could see the exhaustion in Byers' face, and hoped 

it meant the man would sleep well and rest.

 

"I'm tired, though," Byers said.

 

"I know. Me too." He kissed Byers again before slowly and 

carefully withdrawing from his body. "You go ahead and stay 

here. I'll get some washcloths so we can get cleaned up."

 

"Thank you." Even Byers' voice sounded exhausted.

 

Doggett rose and went into the bathroom to toss the full 

condom and clean himself, returning with warm, wet 

washcloths for Byers. Byers was already half asleep, so 

Doggett washed him carefully, then tossed the cloths aside 

and climbed back into bed. Since Byers hadn't taken the 

restraints off his wrists, Doggett left them there. They'd 

do no harm if he slept in them. Settling himself in, he 

took Byers in his arms again, watching him silently as the 

slender man slipped into sleep.

 

It had been a good day. Things had gone so much better than 

he'd hoped. He thought about Byers for a long time, 

wondering what it would be like to have his trust. Like 

Mulder, Byers was a very wary man. His trust would never be 

given lightly. It seemed almost against his nature. He 

wondered what would have to happen before it was granted to 

him, and how he'd react if and when it finally occurred. 

 

Their world was dangerous and frightening. Doggett knew 

that on some level, Byers had a deeper understanding of 

what must really be going on than he did. The hacker had 

been in the middle of it for so many years that, even 

though he was younger and sometimes seemed naive, he'd had 

more experience with the undercurrents than Doggett could 

hope to glimpse. There were secrets in Byers, Doggett knew; 

dangerous secrets. The overt silliness of some of the 

things he and his friends published sometimes seemed more 

of a ruse, a blind to fool the hidden powers into 

complacency. Doggett knew that Byers was too intelligent to 

believe everything the Gunmen published.

 

He drifted into sleep with Byers in his arms, and on his 

mind.

 

~~end chapter 1 of 4~~


	2. Friday

WK2: Armani Weekend

Chapter 2: Saturday

 

PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL

ROOM 1246

NEW YORK CITY

EARLY SATURDAY MORNING

 

Byers woke slowly, and stretched with a quiet yawn. The 

first thing he noticed was the warmth of Doggett's body 

next to him, and he smiled. It had been years since he'd 

woken next to anyone. He missed it, but didn't want to 

think about getting used to the feeling; after all, it 

would only be for the weekend. Still, there was no harm in 

enjoying it while he had it. Shifting his weight, he rolled 

to wrap an arm around the sleeping man, but paused in his 

motion for a moment when he saw the leather restraint still 

buckled around his wrist.

 

How had he gotten so lucky, he wondered. It had been years 

since he'd had so much as a date, yet somehow he'd found 

himself in a situation where his fantasies were being made 

real. It confused and frightened him. Nothing good ever 

seemed to come into his life without something miserable 

balancing it out. He worried that he wouldn't be able to 

hold onto this. No one had ever wanted him for very long 

except Langly, and that was impossible due to their 

circumstances.

 

He thought about what had happened last night at the club. 

His life had always been an exercise in denial and he had 

never imagined he could or would let himself go so far in 

such a public situation. He couldn't believe he'd let 

anyone touch him the way Doggett and Brentali had in front 

of anyone else, much less five strangers. Three of whom, he 

remembered with great embarrassment, were having orgasms 

over his public wantonness. He blushed, knowing there was 

nothing to be done about it now.

 

What made it truly frightening, in his mind, was how much 

he'd loved it all. What he'd done was so against his 

nature; allowing himself to be exposed and vulnerable -- to 

be sexual -- in a public place and in front of anyone other 

than the person he was having sex with scared the hell out 

of him. What had made it so compelling? He shook as he 

thought about it.

 

With a sigh, he tucked his body up against Doggett's back, 

his arm around the man's chest, looking for comfort. It 

felt good. Doggett smelled good -- warm skin and a hint of 

sweat and just plain maleness -- and Byers buried his face 

in his Master's shoulder for a moment, breathing him in. 

Doggett was undisturbed by Byers' movement, snoring softly.

 

The leather restraints around his wrists still felt good. 

Their presence was reassuring, though in a way Byers was 

only beginning to recognize. He wondered what he would 

become if he allowed himself to follow this path, to follow 

the disturbing desires that filled him and drove him 

forward. He'd let a man he didn't even know touch him in 

very intimate, sexual ways, and it had never been his habit 

to pick up strangers. Doggett's presence had been 

reassuring, but his own abandon to the danger and the 

sensuality left a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

Had he been right to trust Doggett's judgment about 

Brentali? Had he been right to even want such a thing?

 

He'd only had two relationships with other men that had 

been even vaguely similar to this. Neither had lasted for 

more than three months, and he'd known each of them for 

quite some time before he'd agreed to anything sexual, much 

less the bondage aspects of it, though he knew he'd wanted 

that. Shyness and fear had held him back on so many levels. 

His ex had entirely refused his requests, and in fact had 

been quite disgusted by them. She'd told him that no 'real 

man' would let anyone treat him that way; god forbid that 

he actually wanted such things. Her rejection had been 

crushing, and it had been the last time he'd ever asked 

anyone. 

 

Byers tightened his arm around Doggett's chest, wondering 

if the man would think he was good enough. He'd already 

been taken far beyond the limits he'd had with the other 

men who had topped him. All the things Doggett had done 

with him yesterday were unmapped territory in his soul. 

Every step was a challenge to him. He feared he might not 

be able to keep up, or that his inexperience would 

disappoint Doggett so much that he'd be rejected again. 

Only keeping an emotional distance could buffer the pain of 

another rejection like that.

 

With his previous tops, everything had been private. There 

was never anyone else watching, much less participating. 

He'd been tied to a bed or a chair, and sometimes had been 

spanked or given a light flogging before he'd been fucked 

or sucked, but that was the sum total of his experience. It 

had taught him that he liked being bound, liked intense 

sensation and a certain amount of mild pain. He knew that 

Doggett had many years more experience than either of the 

men who'd topped him before, and he was learning that there 

was much more to the entire scene than he'd imagined. The 

possibilities weighed heavily on his mind.

 

Doggett weighed heavily on his mind as well. The agent came 

across as tough, prickly, and rather gruff when he was 

working. When Doggett had approached him the first time, 

he'd been surprised. His own quick agreement to the 

unexpected proposal had surprised him as well. He hadn't 

been sure how things would go, but the man had driven him 

to ecstasy. He'd been left feeling awkward, uncertain, and 

fascinated, knowing only that he wanted more of what he'd 

been given. Doggett was strong and powerful and handsome -- 

hell, he was so damned hot -- and Byers didn't understand 

what the man saw in him. It was obvious Doggett could get 

guys like the Marine or the military groupies anytime he 

wanted, and as many as he wanted, so why on earth would he 

want someone like him?

 

It certainly couldn't have anything to do with experience, 

because Byers didn't think he had any that qualified. It 

wasn't about willingness or obedience either, as Doggett 

seemed quite used to subs who knew their place and were 

well behaved. It wasn't about looks; Byers knew he was 

distressingly ordinary and unimpressive. It didn't seem to 

leave anything but some inexplicable hormonal reaction, 

really. He wasn't quite ready to rule out alien influence 

or government mind control just yet either.

 

The more he thought about the whole thing, the shakier and 

more uncertain he felt. Last night had been so good, so 

intense. The experience was burned into his soul; he didn't 

think he'd ever be able to forget the night if he tried, 

and he didn't want to try. He'd learned more about himself 

than he'd thought possible in those few hours. His reaction 

to the sub on the cross had been nothing short of a 

revelation of needs and desires he didn't understand, and 

it shook him to his bones. 

 

What had happened with Doggett and Brentali had been even 

more visceral; his overwhelming desire to have Doggett fuck 

him in front of the man left him trembling in the morning 

light. The vehemence of his feelings chilled him to the 

core. Worse yet, he could still feel a ghost of that desire 

creeping up his spine. Had he really wanted that? Would he 

really have asked it, had he been able to speak? He was 

afraid to answer his own questions. If he let himself have 

an experience like that again, he was terrified he might 

lose himself so deeply in that sensual space that he might 

never come back.

 

Byers' shaking was what finally woke Doggett. He groaned 

and rolled over, wrapping his arms around the slender man. 

Byers burrowed into Doggett's arms, needing the shelter and 

security more than he'd ever realized.

 

"Johnny? What's wrong?" Doggett's voice was sleepy, but 

incredibly gentle. He stroked Byers' hair with one hand, 

holding him close with the other.

 

Byers snuggled closer, letting Doggett hold him. "I've been 

thinking about last night," he said quietly, "about what 

happened. About how I felt when it was all happening, and 

how I'm feeling right now. It's... I'm confused, Jack. I 

don't understand what's going on in my head."

 

"It can be that way for a while after an intense scene, and 

I know that for you, last night was really intense. It's 

okay. You'll be just fine. Come here." Doggett raised 

Byers' face and kissed him softly.

 

Despite the morning breath, Doggett's kiss was a soothing 

reassurance. Doggett's confidence wrapped around Byers and 

allowed him to feel a little of his own. Maybe things would 

be all right if he just talked about what was happening 

inside him. 

 

"You did so well last night, Johnny. I was really proud of 

you." 

 

Byers sighed. "But you don't know what was going on in my 

head while all that was happening."

 

Doggett ran the backs of his fingers over Byers' cheek. "Do 

you want to tell me?"

 

Byers' breath caught. He wasn't sure if he dared. His 

inability to trust raised its head again like some 

unsettled serpent.

 

Doggett sighed. He knew Byers would have to talk about it 

if he was going to be able to deal with everything. "It's 

safe to tell me. I promise that whatever it is, it's all 

right to talk about it."

 

Byers struggled with himself for a moment, swallowing 

uncomfortably. "I felt so strange," he said, "when I 

realized that all those men were watching us, and then I 

realized that I didn't care. I mean, I didn't care then. 

Now I'm... now I feel really embarrassed. It's not... I'm 

not like that, Jack. I'm not an exhibitionist. I don't like 

people seeing my body. I..." Byers slipped into silence.

 

Doggett held him tighter. "There's nothin' wrong with your 

body, John. You really are a handsome guy, even though I 

know you don't believe that. Your shyness is another issue, 

but don't you believe for a minute that you're not a good 

looking man. You just wait until you see yourself in that 

Armani this afternoon. You'll believe me then." Doggett 

smiled. "And what you did with me and Sergio last night is 

nothin' to be ashamed of. I was so proud of you. You were 

so goddamned hot I couldn't believe it."

 

"But those men --"

 

"Were loving every minute of it. But if being in front of 

other guys like that makes you nervous, Johnny, we never 

have to do that again. It's your choice, your limits."

 

Byers closed his eyes and pressed his face into Doggett's 

chest. "But I don't understand, Jack. I'm so embarrassed, 

but I... I liked it. I loved it. I wanted it to be just 

like that while it was happening. Why do I feel this way 

now? Why did I want --" He stopped suddenly.

 

"What did you want, Johnny?"

 

Byers took a deep breath. "When Sergio... when he asked you 

to fuck me in front of him..." He paused for a moment and 

took another deep breath, then let it out. "When... god, 

Jack, I wanted you to do it. I wanted you to fuck me. I 

wanted you to show him I was yours."

 

Doggett sighed and rubbed Byers' back. "Even if you had 

asked, even if you begged, I wouldn't have done it. I 

wanted to, so much, but I would never have done it." Byers 

could hear the ache and the desire in Doggett's voice. "It 

wasn't something we agreed to, John, and this is so new to 

you. If you're embarrassed by what did happen in front of 

the guys in that room, you'd never have forgiven me for 

going that far. No matter how much you might have wanted it 

in the heat of it all, it would have hurt you when you came 

down from the high you were feeling, and I won't do that to 

you. That's why we set limits in the first place." Doggett 

was emphatic, his voice insistent but so gentle.

 

Byers hadn't realized until that moment just how 

emotionally raw he still was. He broke down, weeping. 

Doggett had said exactly what he'd needed to hear. It was a 

reassurance that he'd been safe all along, safe from 

himself, no matter what he'd been feeling during and after 

the experience.

 

Doggett held him, rocking him gently in his arms. "It's 

okay," he whispered, "you're okay. What you felt was okay, 

Johnny. It's natural to want that when you're in that 

state. It's why you negotiate first, when you're still 

rational. It's why you need to be with someone you can 

trust, who won't push your limits or abuse you. It's why 

you need space to come down afterwards, like we've got 

right now."

 

"I was so out of control," Byers said, struggling with his 

tears. "I think I would have done anything. I'm not like 

that, I'm just not like that!"

 

"I know, I know." Doggett brushed his cheek in Byers' hair, 

just holding him and rocking him. "I wouldn't have let 

anything happen that I knew you didn't want. It all turned 

out okay. You're safe, and nothing happened that you didn't 

want. Focus on that, okay?"

 

"I'm scared, Jack. I felt so damned good. I was floating, 

it was so good. It was like I wasn't even in my body 

anymore. Your body," Byers choked back a sob, "your body 

and these cuffs, they're all that kept me together after we 

got back last night. I'm scared because I want it so much. 

I want to feel like that again, and it terrifies me."

 

Doggett shifted his weight and rolled so that he was partly 

on top of Byers, still holding him tight in his arms. 

 

"It's okay to be scared, Johnny. Nothing's gonna hurt you, 

I promise. You can feel like that again, but we'll go slow, 

okay? Just you and me. We'll make it so you feel good like 

that again, and we won't push you any further than you're 

ready to go. It's okay to back off a little after you've 

pushed yourself so far. You need to give yourself some 

breathing space, let yourself get used to things." He 

kissed Byers' forehead. "As you get used to it, you'll be 

able to do more. You'll be able to take things further. 

It's so overwhelming and frightening right now because it's 

all new. With time, you'll know what to expect and you 

won't feel like this afterwards anymore. You'll get more 

confident."

 

The weight of Doggett's body felt right to Byers. "Yeah, 

like this," he whispered, already starting to calm down. "I 

need this. It's helping." 

 

Doggett had been right. So much had been stirred up inside 

him that it was hard to sort through. He wasn't sure he 

would want to do much of anything today but just spend time 

being close to Doggett and working on screwing his head 

back on properly. He felt... clingy. He was used to feeling 

nervous, anxious, and paranoid. Those feelings were old and 

faithful companions. This one was uncomfortable, but he was 

fairly sure it wouldn't last more than a few hours. And 

maybe next time, as his Master had said, his reaction 

wouldn't be so intense.

 

"I'm right here for as long as you need me," Doggett said.

 

"I still want those things," Byers said. "I mean, I do, but 

I don't." He looked up at Doggett. "I do, but not yet, I 

guess is what I'm trying to say."

 

"Which things are you talking about, though? Being fucked 

in front of Sergio? Being played with in front of other 

people? Being up on that cross that you were so fascinated 

with last night? Something else?" There was a mix of 

compassion and curiosity in Doggett's voice. "Knowing this 

stuff will help me know what you want and how to treat 

you," he said.

 

Byers closed his eyes, blushing. "All of it. All of that, 

and other things... I want you to push me over the edge, 

Jack. I want you to..." He took a deep breath. "I want 

you," he whispered. "I just... I just want to be able to 

feel like that again. I've never felt like that before. 

I've never been able to lose myself like that, and it felt 

so good. But I'm afraid I'll fall in and never come back. 

Why the hell does it have to scare me so much?"

 

"Because you're looking into the abyss, Johnny," Doggett 

said. "You're seeing some of the things you've been hiding 

from yourself your whole life. You don't have to worry 

about coming back, though. You always will. Learning that 

what you want isn't what you thought it was can be a hell 

of a shock to your system. This is part of you. It would 

scare the hell out of anybody to learn that they're not 

what they thought they were." Doggett rolled some of his 

weight off Byers, and the bearded man shifted with him, not 

wanting to lose the body contact. 

 

"Don't let go," Byers said. Doggett held him closer.

 

"I know you think you're not like that, that maybe that you 

shouldn't want or like what you had last night," Doggett 

continued. "But there's a part of you that really is that, 

too. Part of you is a little bit exhibitionistic, part of 

you does want to be watched, does want to be touched by 

more than one person. Part of you wants to be pushed past 

your limits. And that's okay. Those are the parts of you 

that loved what you felt, that want to feel that way again. 

As you learn more about those parts of yourself, you'll be 

more confident about knowing what they want, how they 

react, how far they're willing to go -- and what things 

will be safe to do. It'll all fall together someday and in 

the end, it'll just be you; everything you are now, and 

everything you want to be."

 

"And when is that supposed to happen?" Byers said, brushing 

away the remaining traces of his tears.

 

Doggett chuckled. "I don't know. It's not like there's some 

calendar you can check it against. It ain't like that. It 

happens as it happens, and it's different for everybody. 

You're a pretty shy, quiet guy, and it may take you a long 

time to get through it all. But maybe you're a hell of a 

lot braver than you think, and it won't take that long at 

all. There's no way to tell. You just gotta live it."

 

Byers sighed, nodding. "Story of my life," he said.

 

Byers finally stopped shaking, but wasn't sure he was ready 

to get out of bed and face the day yet. Doggett stayed 

under the covers, holding him for another few moments. 

"What do you want to do today, Johnny?" he asked.

 

"I'm not sure yet," Byers said. "I'm hungry, though."

 

"Do you think a soak in the Jacuzzi might help you feel a 

little steadier?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers thought for a moment, then smiled. "Yeah. I think it 

might. But I don't want to get up just yet."

 

"Well, I'm gonna have to in a couple of minutes, 'cuz I've 

gotta piss like a racehorse," Doggett said, chuckling. He 

squeezed Byers close. "Those wrist restraints, do you want 

'em off yet?"

 

Byers nodded. "I think I can cope with that."

 

Doggett rolled Byers on top of him. "Gimme your hands."

 

Bracing himself on the bed with one arm, Byers leaned up 

slightly and let Doggett remove first one, then the other. 

Doggett tossed them onto the bedside stand. Taking Byers' 

face in both hands, he pulled him in for a kiss, and Byers 

slid his tongue into Doggett's mouth. The kiss was soft and 

deep, and both of them moaned as it went on. Byers was 

tempted to ask if Doggett would fuck him before they got 

up, but realized he genuinely wasn't ready for it yet. Long 

moments later, they came up for air.

 

"Up," Doggett said, patting Byers' ass. "And don't nail me 

in the bladder when you do it."

 

Byers laughed. "Just what I need to start the day, getting 

you pissed off."

 

Doggett snorted. "Right now, it'd be more like gettin' 

yourself pissed on."

 

Byers made a face. "Ewwww."

 

Doggett laughed. "Okay, that's one kink we can rule out." 

Byers could only blush in response.

 

Byers rolled off Doggett, and Doggett got out of bed, 

hurrying to the bathroom. After he relieved himself, he 

started running water into the big Jacuzzi tub for Byers. 

Taking a few moments to brush his teeth and shave as the 

water ran, he considered their morning options.

 

He had to call Brentali and let him know how Byers was 

doing. He'd do that while Byers soaked. He needed a shower 

as well, but maybe Byers would want to shower with him 

after he was out of the tub. By that time, the man might be 

feeling up to being touched and played with a little under 

the hot, running water. Doggett didn't want anything 

elaborate, but he wanted to indulge himself a little. 

Perhaps Byers would be up to being sucked. It would be an 

offer rather than an order; he wouldn't be upset if Byers 

refused. Doggett knew his sub still needed time to sort 

himself out, but it would be a good way to start the day if 

the offer was accepted.

 

They'd have to do something about breakfast, but he really 

didn't want to decide that until he discussed it with 

Byers. They could do that after the shower.

 

Byers came into the bathroom and slid his arms around 

Doggett's waist, resting his bearded chin on his Master's 

shoulder. Doggett enjoyed the feeling, enjoyed the 

closeness.

 

"You doin' okay?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers smiled. "Wondered if you'd fallen in. I need to use 

the bathroom."

 

Doggett finished rinsing the shaving cream from his face. 

"Yeah, okay. I just had to finish shaving. It's all yours."

 

"Thanks." Byers kissed Doggett's shoulder and let him go. 

Doggett left the man to his morning routine.

 

Returning to the bedroom, Doggett wrapped himself in a robe 

and tied the belt, then settled down in the living room 

with his cell phone. He dialed Brentali's number.

 

"Pronto."

 

Doggett smiled. "Hey Sergio."

 

"Ah, John! How are you this morning, and how is your 

delectable young friend?"

 

"I'm fine, thanks. Johnny seems to be doing okay. Still 

kinda shaky, but I think we both expected that, yeah?"

 

"Yes, yes," Brentali said. "He did have that look about him 

last night. Did he manage to sleep?"

 

"Yeah. Took a while for him to settle enough, though."

 

Brentali chuckled. "I assume you had to give him 

satisfaction before that happened, eh?"

 

Doggett laughed. "What, you think I'm gonna tell you?"

 

"You always have before." Brentali's voice was smug and 

amused.

 

"Lyin' sack," Doggett said. "You just want to hear all the 

gory details so you can whack off while I tell you."

 

Brentali snorted. "You have such doubts about my noble 

motives, John. I just want to know that your new boy is 

properly cared for."

 

"Want him for yourself is more like it."

 

"Perhaps. Or at least to watch."

 

Doggett chuckled. "Yeah, I knew that was comin'."

 

"John, I wish to ask you something." Brentali's voice was 

slightly hesitant.

 

"What's that?"

 

"Last night..."

 

"What about it?" Doggett was curious now.

 

Brentali hesitated. "How long have you known your Mr. 

Byers, John?"

 

"Met him about a year ago. He and his pals, they've done 

some work for me in that time."

 

"Yes, so you said, but -- forgive me for being indelicate -

\- how long have you *known* him?"

 

Doggett blinked. "About a month. Why? What's this about, 

Sergio?"

 

Doggett could hear Brentali taking a deep breath before he 

spoke. "Last night, John, when he was in distress, you said 

something to him. It gave me pause."

 

"What was that?" Doggett was truly puzzled now.

 

"You called him... well, you called him something I have 

only ever heard you call Barbara, before the divorce. When 

did you become so attached to this young man that you're 

calling him 'babe'? Is this a serious relationship for 

you?"

 

Doggett sat in stunned silence.

 

A few moments later, Brentali spoke again. "John?"

 

Doggett shook himself out of it. "I... Are you sure you 

heard right?"

 

"Quite so, John. Are you all right?"

 

Doggett thought for a moment. He didn't remember saying it. 

He certainly wasn't close enough to Byers that he would 

call him that. "You musta heard wrong, Sergio. That's not 

possible. I hardly know the guy yet. We've only played once 

before this weekend." He knew didn't have that depth of 

feeling for Byers. But the inexplicable attraction he 

felt... No.

 

Brentali sighed. "My friend, I do know what I heard. I 

found it... quite curious. I know you don't attach yourself 

to other men easily, and I wondered if you had perhaps 

found someone at last. But if this makes you uncomfortable, 

I'll drop it. Have you and your boy had breakfast yet?"

 

"Ah, no, we haven't." Doggett was grateful for the change 

of subject. He didn't want to think about what Brentali had 

said, or its possible implications.

 

"Then why don't you join me in about an hour?"

 

"Can we make it about an hour and a half? Johnny's taking a 

soak in the Jacuzzi," Doggett said. "I don't want to have 

to drag him out too soon."

 

Brentali's voice was cheerful. "Certainly." He laughed. 

"That exquisite specimen of yours is in the bath and you're 

on the phone with me? Such heedless neglect. At any rate, 

I'll expect you to join me at Sarabeths' West then. I think 

it would be good for your boy to get to know me as Sergio, 

rather than seeing me only as an authority. It'll be my 

treat, all right?"

 

"That might be good for him. But about the treat, are you 

sure?" 

 

"Oh, yes. Absolutely. Are we agreed?"

 

"Sure, Sergio. Thanks. I'll look forward to it."

 

"Ciao, then!"

 

Doggett smiled. "Ciao."

 

He set the phone down and went back into the bedroom. He 

could hear the jets of the Jacuzzi running, and he went to 

the door of the bathroom to check on Byers. 

 

Byers lay in the tub, his head resting on the back ledge, 

eyes closed. His face was relaxed and calm, peaceful. It 

looked good on him, Doggett thought. Much better than the 

stress he'd seen when they were still in bed together, 

Byers trying to cope with his fears. He liked seeing the 

shy, quiet man like this and stood for several minutes in 

the doorway just watching him affectionately.

 

Doggett wondered why Byers' trust was so important to him, 

why he felt so possessive toward the man. He barely knew 

him. Other bottoms had come and gone through his life, 

usually quickly and without fuss. Byers had always struck 

him as a little odd, as did his friends, but attractive 

nonetheless. Brentali had been right when he'd said Doggett 

didn't get attached to other men easily. He had sex with 

them, not intimate relationships. He didn't know why this 

would change, particularly for a man like Byers. Doggett 

had always thought that if he ever felt that sort of 

closeness with another man, it would have been more like 

the type he usually played with; strong, athletic, much 

more conventionally handsome. It would have been someone 

military, or in law enforcement, he thought. Someone whose 

experiences had been not unlike his own, whose experience 

in the scene was akin to his own.

 

Byers was a thin, wiry man, with an intellectual and 

emotional intensity and a soft air of gentleness that 

Doggett found appealing, but that gentleness was never 

anything he'd sought out in his -- what -- toys? Personal 

amusements? Pets? Most of the men he'd been with had 

certainly never been his lovers. Byers was quiet and shy, 

and obviously inexperienced in the scene, though he did 

seem to have clear concepts of his own boundaries and some 

of what he wanted. 

 

He doubted Byers had ever been anywhere near the military 

in his life before he'd been immersed in the conspiracies 

that threaded through both their existences. Yet there was 

a well disguised solidity to him just under the surface. He 

knew, as if by instinct, that there was courage somewhere 

in Byers, a core of something strong and resilient. There 

had to be, if Byers was willing to face and act on the same 

desires that seemed to terrify him so. Doggett suspected 

that once the man broke through the fears holding him back 

\-- and he was fairly certain it would happen at some point 

\-- he would be a seriously intense player. The thought set 

Doggett's heart racing.

 

When Byers dropped his guard, opened himself to his own 

needs, his sensuality burned brightly. Doggett knew that 

this was part of what appealed to him about the shy man. 

Perhaps he was caught by the dichotomy that Byers 

presented; the enigmatic everyday formality of the quiet 

man in the suit, and the wild, desperate abandon of the 

bound submissive who had been writhing in his arms last 

night. Byers might not have ever been military, but there 

was a sense of discipline and honor in him that Doggett had 

rarely seen matched elsewhere. Did this add to his 

unexpected and deepening attraction? 

 

The mystery of it gnawed at him. Doggett liked solutions 

and neat packages, order and sensible explanations. Byers 

was neat, orderly, and sensible, but at the same time, he 

was none of those things. The paradox of the man was 

magnetic. Doggett went to sit at the edge of the tub.

 

As he sat, Byers opened his eyes. He smiled up at Doggett.

 

"Would you like to join me?" Byers asked. He held a hand up 

to Doggett.

 

Doggett grinned and shed his robe. It pooled on the floor 

at his feet. "Yeah. Sounds good." He stepped into the big 

tub, sliding down to lie beside Byers, his back to a row of 

jets. Byers turned to face him, his back to the jets on the 

other side.

 

The heat of the moving water felt good on his body, but 

better when Byers' body met his, face to face. They slid 

their arms around each other, Doggett savoring the 

smoothness of Byers' hot, wet skin against his own. He 

kissed Byers gently. 

 

"What took you so long?" Byers asked.

 

Doggett chuckled. "I had to call Sergio. I promised him 

last night I'd let him know how you were doing. He asked us 

to meet him for breakfast."

 

A whisper of anxiety crossed Byers' face for a moment, but 

vanished in his clear blue eyes. "That sounds good," he 

said. "I'm getting really hungry."

 

"We have a little time before we have to be anywhere." 

Doggett caressed Byers' body with his hands, and slid 

against him, buoyed up by the hot water.

 

Byers rumbled his appreciation quietly in Doggett's ear, 

almost purring. "I'm glad." He kissed Doggett's ear and 

nibbled at the soft skin behind it.

 

"Are you sure you want to go there? I didn't think you'd be 

up for anything so soon after last night," Doggett said.

 

Byers sighed and held Doggett tight to his body. "I just 

feel like I need to be close like this right now. Maybe a 

little something more, but nothing too intense."

 

Doggett nodded. "I'd like to suck you," he said, running 

his hand up Byers' thigh until he came to his balls. He 

cupped them gently and caressed them, then stroked Byers' 

shaft slowly.

 

"Mmmmmmmm. Yeah, please. I'd like that." Byers' eyes 

closed, his face softening in pleasure.

 

Doggett shifted his body until he was holding Byers' hips 

in his arms, raising him partly out of the water. Bending 

down, he started kissing and licking Byers' stiffening cock 

as the water pounded against them both.

 

Byers moaned, arching his back, then slid his arms up over 

his head. Even when pleasure was freely offered to him, it 

seemed he needed the vulnerability of that exposure. His 

chest rose out of the water, and Doggett took in the sight 

of his sub's wet, slender body moving sensually under his 

ministrations. He lowered his head and took Byers' rod into 

his mouth, licking and sucking. Sliding his hands up Byers' 

back, he savored the softness of the man's skin.

 

Byers felt good in his mouth, his length growing and 

thickening with excitement as Doggett sucked. Both of them 

groaned and sighed at the sensations, and Byers shivered as 

Doggett's strong hands massaged his back and sides.

 

Doggett would have teased the man verbally, but he was in 

no mood to talk. He sucked and licked and nipped at Byers' 

flesh, making the bearded man writhe and whimper under him. 

Dipping his head to take Byers in again, he tasted the 

salty liquid leaking from the slit in the head of his sub's 

swollen shaft. He loved the sound of Byers voice as he 

cried out wordlessly in pleasure. 

 

Doggett's own rod was hard now as well, and he shifted his 

body so that one of the water jets struck it as he moved. 

He shuddered at the intensity of it, nearly coming from the 

sensation, but held himself back. For a moment, he gave up 

Byers' dick and slid his body up along the other man's, 

taking his mouth in a deep, hard kiss. Byers groaned and 

wrapped his arms around Doggett, thrusting against him, 

their cocks rubbing hard against each other. The water jets 

and the feel of Byers' body against his own were driving 

Doggett toward a quick orgasm.

 

He tried to slide back down, but Byers was panting, lost in 

the sensation, and wouldn't release him.

 

"Let go, Johnny," he said, gasping with the force of his 

desire.

 

Byers loosened his grip, and Doggett slid down his body, 

leaving a trail of nips and kisses as he moved back to the 

man's stiff, hot shaft. He sucked Byers hard, using his 

tongue everywhere along the man's length, caressing Byers' 

balls with an empty hand. With a shout, Byers arched his 

back and he came, thrusting wildly, Doggett sucking deep 

and swallowing his musky, salt come. Doggett's own release 

came quickly under the force of the water jets, and he slid 

up Byers' body again as he stretched and thrust against 

him, shaking and trembling. 

 

The men held each other, breathing heavily, unable to 

speak. Doggett lay cradled in Byers' arms, eyes closed, his 

head on his sub's shoulder as they panted together. They 

lay there unmoving for several minutes, each finding solace 

in the other's embrace.

 

Finally, still a bit breathless, Doggett said, "I think we 

need a shower."

 

Byers nodded. He stroked one wet hand over Doggett's cheek, 

then tilted the man's face up and kissed him softly. It 

sent a shiver through him. "Thank you," he whispered, his 

lips still against Doggett's.

 

Doggett reached up and turned off the jets, then got out of 

the tub, leaving Byers to pull the drain. After a moment, 

he had the water in the shower adjusted to a comfortable 

temperature, and stepped in. Byers joined him, and they 

held each other under the falling water. After a few 

minutes, Doggett handed Byers the soap. 

 

"Do my back for me," he said. He handed Byers a washcloth.

 

Byers soaped the cloth and scrubbed Doggett's back, pleased 

with the opportunity. It allowed him time to admire 

Doggett's solid, athletic build, revealed in light and 

running water; something he hadn't had a chance to do 

before. The feel of the man's muscles under his hands was 

sensual and grounding. Byers loved the way Doggett looked 

nude, and let his soapy hands stray down his Master's back 

to his waist, then to his firm, tight ass.

 

"That's good, Johnny," Doggett said, his voice deep and 

rumbling with pleasure. Byers wondered what it would be 

like to enter the man, pressed against his back, hips 

striking that ass as he thrust into him. The chance of 

that, he realized, was about equivalent to that of being 

struck by a meteor while sitting on a bench in Central 

Park. Still, the thought stirred him and his stubborn prick 

rose. Once he finished scrubbing Doggett's back, he wrapped 

himself around the man's body, pressing himself close. He 

rested his cheek on his Master's broad back and sighed.

 

Doggett took the washcloth from him. "Okay, turn around and 

I'll do yours."

 

Byers let go reluctantly, getting in one more press of his 

hips against Doggett's ass, and turned as he'd been told. 

Doggett's large, strong hands felt good on his body, and 

Byers closed his eyes to let himself feel it without any 

visual distractions. He hadn't been touched so much in the 

last year as he had in just the past day. He feared that 

after the weekend, when they both went back to their daily 

lives, he would be left craving physical contact without 

recourse. In the midst of his warmth and the stirring in 

his groin, Byers wondered if he should withdraw, not let 

himself become too attached to his body's needs. He was 

well practiced in the art of self-denial.

 

But his body refused to shut itself off, refused to let go 

of the sensation of Doggett's hands rubbing the nubbly 

cloth over his back, down his waist, over his ass. He 

groaned quietly as he braced himself against the wall of 

the shower stall with his hands to let Doggett rub harder, 

getting deep into his muscles. It was too good to back away 

from, too much to deny. He didn't want to, even knowing 

that going without the contact after the weekend would be 

hard for him. He knew the emptiness of missing another 

person's touch far too intimately, but understood that he 

had to deal with it if he was going to let himself enjoy 

the weekend. This was why he'd come -- to be touched, to be 

fucked, to be given some taste of his fantasies.

 

"Where are you, Johnny?" Doggett asked, his voice 

concerned.

 

"Hmm? Oh, sorry. Just thinking."

 

"Seems like you do an awful lot of that." Doggett's hands 

caressed his shoulders and down his arms.

 

Byers nodded. "I worry too much."

 

"Why doesn't this surprise me?"

 

Doggett's arms slipped around him, broad hands soaping his 

chest then his stomach, and Byers leaned back into his 

Master's muscular body. It felt good. Everything about this 

felt good. Leaning against Doggett was like leaning into a 

secure wall of strength; being wrapped in his arms, like 

being surrounded by an emotional fortress. Byers felt 

absurdly safe there. 

 

He knew it was absurd, because he never felt safe anywhere; 

all safety was relative, all security an illusion. For all 

he knew, there could be hidden cameras in the suite. The 

first thing he'd done when they arrived and unpacked was 

pitch the room's Gideon Bible down the closest laundry 

chute he could find in the hallway. They were all bugged, 

he knew. Susanne had convinced him of that the day his eyes 

had been opened to the conspiracies, back in 1989. Byers 

never left one unmolested in any hotel room he ever stayed 

in. Doggett had stared at him, shaking his head in 

astonishment, but hadn't asked about it. 

 

"You feel so good," Byers whispered, not caring whether or 

not Doggett actually heard him.

 

Doggett chuckled. "It's not a one-way street." He held 

Byers tightly, pressing his own hardness against his sub's 

ass, as Byers had pressed into him earlier. If they had 

more time and he knew Byers was ready for it, he'd have 

happily taken the man then and there. The memory of the 

tight heat of Byers' ass around his rod was delicious and 

far too tempting, but it would wait. He ran a soapy hand 

over Byers' genitals, appreciating the heat and hardness, 

then slowly released him to let him rinse.

 

Byers shuddered and sighed, turning his trim body into the 

water. He looked up at Doggett with longing in his eyes, 

and something else. Doggett wasn't sure what that something 

was, but it had echoes of the sadness that Byers carried 

with him constantly. He wished he knew what he could do to 

take that look away and replace it with something a little 

less haunted.

 

He watched as Byers washed his hair, appreciating the 

slender man's movements, the lines and arcs of his body 

under the running water. He honestly didn't understand why 

Byers seemed to think he wasn't a decent looking guy. Byers 

was no gym bunny -- most guys really weren't -- but he was 

in damned good shape for a guy who spent most of his life 

parked in front of a computer. Doggett had heard rumors 

from Mulder about some of the Gunmen's 'funky poaching' 

expeditions, and guessed that it must be part of the reason 

Byers looked so good. It didn't explain Frohike, but then, 

what did?

 

When Byers finished rinsing down, Doggett swatted his ass 

gently. "Out of the way. I need to finish up. You go get 

dressed. Wear something casual, okay?"

 

Byers smiled ruefully and nodded. "As you wish."

 

"You look good in it," Doggett called out as Byers dripped 

his way across the bathroom for a towel.

 

"I feel weird in it," Byers griped.

 

"You're already weird. Wear normal clothes long enough and 

you'll get over feeling weird about it. Nobody'll ever be 

able to tell you're peculiar unless you start talkin' about 

Teletubbies and mind control."

 

Byers snorted as he dried himself. "The government starts 

early. Cradle to grave, Jack, cradle to grave."

 

"You're paranoid."

 

"You already knew that. It doesn't mean I'm wrong."

 

Doggett laughed. "Sorry, Johnny. You're gonna have to prove 

that Teletubby thing to me with more than just a couple of 

screen captures and an alleged translation of their 

'dialogue.'"

 

"You wouldn't say that if you had any idea what they're 

really telling the children of America."

 

"What, do you guys drop acid and watch it to translate it 

or something? It's a goddamn British show."

 

Byers shook his head. "Langly volunteered for that job. It 

wasn't my idea. And Great Britain's in on the whole thing 

anyway. Don't think for an instant they're not. They've 

been pissed at us ever since we won our independence."

 

Doggett turned off the water. "You believe that hippie 

throwback partner of yours about something as bizarre as 

that? When he's frying, for god's sake? What's next? Back 

masking in Elvis records? Disney drug rings?"

 

Byers grinned. "Another of Langly's pet projects. There's 

no way Elvis is dead. And they don't call it 'The Magic 

Kingdom' for nothing. We have indisputable proof that 

Mickey's been huffing helium and getting strung out on 

crack for over 50 years."

 

"Oh, come on. Jesus, Johnny, Mickey's not even *real.*"

 

"That doesn't mean that Disney isn't at the center of a 

huge media conspiracy." Byers paused dramatically, then 

laughed. "I had you going there, didn't I?"

 

Doggett groaned and grabbed a towel, giving it a lightning 

quick twist, and snapping out at Byers. The bearded man 

dodged the snap and stuck his tongue out at Doggett, then 

laughed again. Doggett roared and charged Byers, who yelped 

and ran for the bedroom. Doggett caught him and tackled 

him, tossing the slight man down on the bed and pinning him 

with his body.

 

"You don't think you're gonna get away with that, do you?" 

Doggett asked, laughing.

 

Byers laughed breathlessly, then yipped when Doggett bent 

down, biting his neck and sucking.

 

"We just took a shower!" Byers objected. "If you keep this 

up, we'll need another one. And we have to meet Sergio for 

breakfast."

 

Breathless, Doggett kissed Byers hard and fast, then rolled 

off him, stood, and started drying himself off.

 

"You got me all wet again." Byers had a very silly fake 

pout on his face.

 

Doggett snorted. "Tough. Go dry off again."

 

"Killjoy."

 

"Hey, remember who's supposed to be in charge around here." 

Doggett tossed his damp towel at Byers. "If you're too lazy 

to go into the bathroom and get a dry one, use this."

 

Byers stood and dried himself again with Doggett's towel. 

Doggett grinned and started dressing.

 

SARABETH'S WEST

MORNING

 

"Do you think he'll be there yet? We're a little early," 

Byers said, looking around the restaurant.

 

Doggett chuckled. "Sergio's always early. Look, he's over 

there."

 

Doggett pointed off toward a corner table, where Byers saw 

Brentali waving at them. Putting a hand on the small of 

Byers' back, Doggett guided him toward the table.

 

"Ah, buongiorno, gentlemen," Brentali said. "Please, 

please, have a seat." He motioned to the chairs opposite 

him. The men sat, and Brentali grinned at them. "So how are 

you this morning, Mr. Byers? Shall I call you Mr. Byers?"

 

"Um, John is fine," Byers said, "and I'm... I'm doing much 

better, thank you."

 

"Please, call me Sergio," Brentali said.

 

Byers nodded. "Okay."

 

Brentali waved down a server, and menus were brought to 

the table. "I would like a ristretto," Brentali said, "and 

my guests..."

 

"I'll have an espresso," Doggett said. "A cappuccino with 

cinnamon for him." He motioned to Byers, who nodded.

 

The server nodded and headed for the coffee bar.

 

"So, I have two Johns across the table from me," Brentali 

said. "This poses something of a dilemma." He chuckled.

 

Doggett and Byers looked at each other and shrugged.

 

"I think we'll be able to figure it out," Doggett said.

 

"Of course, my friend, of course," Brentali said, nodding.

 

"How are you this morning, Sergio," Byers asked. He wasn't 

sure how to approach a conversation with the man. He'd 

never been in a situation like this before.

 

Brentali smiled kindly. "I'm well, John, thank you. I must 

say, it was quite a pleasure to spend time with you last 

night. I hope we shall have the opportunity again 

sometime."

 

Byers blushed. Doggett slipped a hand onto Byers' thigh and 

squeezed gently. "I... it was a unique experience for me, 

Sergio." Byers looked down at the table, then back up at 

Brentali. "I didn't have a chance to thank you last night. 

I don't know what'll happen later, though. That's up to 

Jack." He looked over at Doggett. Resting his hand on 

Doggett's in his lap, he offered him a tiny, shy smile.

 

Brentali raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

 

"We'll see what happens," Doggett said. "Right now, 

breakfast is a more immediate concern for me. I'm 

starving."

 

"You were never one for skipping meals," Brentali said. "I 

don't know how you stay in such fine shape."

 

"What do you want, Johnny?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers picked up a menu. He scanned it while the other men 

examined their own. "Oh, I think I'll have the Eggs 

Benedict," he said. "Some bacon."

 

Doggett nodded as the server returned with their coffee.

 

"Are you ready to order?" she asked. She looked down at 

Doggett's hand on Byers' leg. Her eyes darkened and she 

glanced away from the men, frowning.

 

Byers blushed, embarrassed.

 

Brentali saw the exchange. "Yes," he said. "I would like 

the mushroom omelet with the Italian sausage. John?" He 

looked to Doggett. Byers sipped his cappuccino to cover his 

uneasiness.

 

"Scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. He'll have the Eggs 

Benedict with bacon." Doggett's hand caressed Byers' thigh. 

He picked up his espresso and sipped it.

 

"Will that be all, gentlemen?" Her tone wasn't quite as 

friendly as it had been.

 

"For the moment, yes," Brentali said, stiffening. He gave 

the server a disapproving look. 

 

Doggett looked over, seeing Brentali react. He looked up at 

her. "Do you have a problem with something?" he asked, 

glaring at her.

 

The woman blushed. "Ah, n-no sir," she stammered, backing 

away and hurrying for the kitchen to place their order.

 

Doggett looked over at Byers, who was still blushing, his 

face partly hidden by his cappuccino cup.

 

"Johnny, are you okay?" Doggett asked softly.

 

Byers sighed. "I'll be all right," he said, miserable. He 

looked up at Doggett. "I knew there were reasons I stayed 

in the closet."

 

Doggett put an arm around Byers' shoulder. "She won't give 

us any more shit." Byers was sure of that, but 

uncomfortable at Doggett's public gesture.

 

"I'm very sorry," Brentali said. "I come here often, and 

have never had trouble before. I'll speak to the manager if 

you like."

 

Doggett shook his head. "I suspect she'll think twice 

before she does something like that again, Sergio. No real 

need."

 

Brentali nodded. "You're probably right about that, my 

friend." He looked over at Byers. "So, John," he asked, 

"what is it that you do? John says that you are a 

researcher of some sort?"

 

Byers smiled, and chuckled quietly. "In a manner of 

speaking. I'm an investigative journalist, really."

 

"Oh? This is fascinating. For whom do you write?"

 

Byers looked over at Doggett, then back at Brentali. 

"Actually, my associates and I publish a small paper 

ourselves. It's called 'The Lone Gunman.' We investigate 

governmental and corporate crimes against the public."

 

Brentali's brow wrinkled. "I've never heard of this 

publication. Do you have much circulation?"

 

"A little over two thousand subscribers," Byers replied.

 

"Some of their stories are a little... uh... different," 

Doggett said quietly.

 

"Is this available on the newsstand," Brentali asked, "or 

by subscription only?"

 

Byers nodded. "Some newsstands carry us. There's one in 

Times Square that does. Our circulation isn't large, but 

it's international."

 

Brentali smiled. "This is impressive. I should find a copy. 

How often do you publish?"

 

"Once a week," Byers said. "Thursdays."

 

"And John," Sergio looked to Doggett, "what have you been 

up to? I have not seen you often since you moved to 

Washington. How is the FBI treating you?"

 

Doggett hesitated for a moment, then looked down at the 

table. "I got assigned to a different division. It's pretty 

small, really obscure. They call it the X Files. I end up 

working on some really weird shit, Sergio. Stuff you 

wouldn't believe. Hell, you wouldn't want to believe some 

of this stuff." He snorted, looking back up at Brentali. 

"Actually, Johnny's paper publishes stuff about some of the 

cases that have come up in the division over the years."

 

Brentali looked intrigued. "I know you mentioned you were 

working with your old friend, Monica Reyes, but you were 

rather reluctant to discuss your cases. From the sound of 

it, you must be dealing with truly strange and unusual 

things, my friend."

 

"I chase ghosts, Sergio. And aliens. And a lot of even 

stranger stuff than that."

 

Brentali raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Stranger than 

ghosts and aliens? Why would the FBI have an interest in 

such things to begin with? Are these ghosts and aliens 

engaging in federal offenses?" He chuckled.

 

Doggett cringed. "Sometimes, yeah, weird as that sounds."

 

Brentali shook his head. "And how did such a fine man as 

yourself get put in such an... unusual position?"

 

"I originally got assigned to a missing persons case on the 

Special Agent in charge of the division." Doggett sighed. 

"We finally found him, but things got really complicated, 

and I ended up working there. It's been frustrating, but 

some of it's fascinating."

 

"Jack and Agent Reyes, and Agents Mulder and Scully, who 

were originally with the division, have cracked some vital 

cases," Byers said. "My associates and I have been able to 

help with some of these investigations." He smiled, 

pleased.

 

"So you work as a consultant for the FBI, as well as 

publishing a paper?" Sergio asked.

 

Byers shook his head. "Not officially. Our methods are... "

 

"Questionable," Doggett finished. Byers shot him a look.

 

"That's not entirely fair," Byers said. "I think 

'unconventional' would be more accurate."

 

Brentali looked at them, skeptical. "This sounds quite 

complicated."

 

Doggett and Byers nodded in unison.

 

"You might say that," Doggett said with a snort.

 

"Too complicated for breakfast," Byers said. 

 

Sergio chuckled. "I shall take your word for it, John."

 

They looked up as the server arrived with their food. She 

placed plates before each of the men. "Enjoy your 

breakfasts, gentlemen," she said, eyeing Doggett nervously.

 

Doggett and Byers turned their attention to breakfast. 

"This doesn't look too bad," Byers said, trying a bite.

 

Doggett grunted and nodded, too busy eating to respond.

 

"John," Sergio said to Byers, "may I ask you a question?"

 

Byers looked up from his plate. "I guess that depends on 

the question," he said, nervous.

 

Sergio nodded. "It's all right, you don't have to answer if 

you don't wish to. I was wondering how you felt about last 

night. You seem to be a rather reserved man, and I simply 

wish to be certain that you don't regret your visit to the 

club, or our... interaction."

 

Doggett looked up, watching Byers.

 

Byers shifted slightly in his seat. "I... well, no. I don't 

regret it. It was... " Byers blushed again and smiled 

shyly, looking at Brentali. "It was intense. Overwhelming, 

really. I had a little trouble afterwards, when I was 

coming down. I've never had an experience like that, and I 

guess I had to come to terms with what it might mean about 

me, about who and what I am."

 

Brentali nodded. "Yes, this is common with people who have 

little experience in the scene. But you are doing well now, 

you said?"

 

Byers looked down at his plate. "Yeah. I'm still not quite 

my usual self, I think, but I'll be okay. I guess I'm just 

feeling a little... off, still." He looked over at Doggett.

 

"We talked last night, and this morning," Doggett said. 

"Everything'll be fine. Johnny's got some pretty strong 

boundaries and he thinks things over a lot. He's the type 

that gets through that stuff and comes out okay on the 

other side." Doggett's eyes met Byers', and they gazed at 

each other for a few minutes.

 

Brentali watched, silent, sipping his ristretto.

 

Byers thought he was holding up well, considering the 

direction of the conversation. All in all, it seemed that 

their visit to the club had been a positive experience, if 

not the most comfortable situation in the world. But you 

couldn't push the envelope if you never did anything 

outside its confines.

 

Doggett reached out and caressed Byers' cheek with the 

backs of his fingers, and Byers closed his eyes, leaning 

slightly into the touch. "You're doin' great, Johnny." 

Doggett said, smiling softly. He sighed and went back to 

his food.

 

"Was it anything like you thought it might be?" Brentali 

asked.

 

Byers shrugged. "I honestly didn't know what to expect."

 

"Were you able to enjoy yourself?" Brentali took a bite of 

his sausage and eggs.

 

Byers nodded. "Yes," he said very quietly. "Thank you. I 

don't think I'll ever forget it."

 

Brentali smiled at him. "It was a great pleasure for me. 

You seem like a fine young man."

 

Byers smiled, eyes lowered, but lit with delight.

 

"You keep that up, it'll go to his head," Doggett said, 

grinning.

 

Brentali laughed. "Ah, but which one?"

 

Byers blushed and covered his face with one hand. "Please, 

not in public."

 

"My apologies, John. I don't know you well enough yet for 

such teasing in a place like this," Brentali said. "I shall 

not do so again, you have my word."

 

"I do better with that sort of thing in private," Byers 

said. "I'm used to it from the guys I work with, and a few 

other friends, so it's really not an issue, but this is... 

it just feels a little awkward." 

 

Byers glanced around the room, wondering if anyone had 

overheard any of the conversation. It wasn't the sort of 

thing he was used to talking about at all, much less in a 

restaurant where anyone might overhear. The server's 

unfriendliness had left him feeling uneasy to begin with, 

and the overt teasing didn't help. He looked to Doggett, 

taking the hand that was still in his lap, seeking 

reassurance. Doggett's hand squeezed his for a moment, and 

Doggett met his eyes again briefly.

 

He wanted breakfast to be over. It wasn't that talking to 

Brentali bothered Byers, he was still just feeling a little 

too sensitive to be in public. He thought he really needed 

another hour or so of quiet and privacy before he'd feel 

completely solid again.

 

"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom," Byers said. He 

rose from the table to look for the bathroom, where he 

could have some privacy for a few minutes. He needed to get 

his bearings back, alone.

 

Doggett and Brentali watched him go.

 

"I'm sorry, John. I didn't mean to upset him," Brentali 

said. "Are you going to go after him?"

 

Doggett shook his head. "No, I think he just needs a little 

space for a few minutes. He'll be fine. He's tougher than 

he seems. There's something really solid in him."

 

"He is a very sensitive soul," Brentali said. "Very shy, as 

you told me."

 

"Yeah." Doggett was still watching in the direction Byers 

had gone.

 

"It seems to me that, whatever you may think, something in 

you has taken very much to this young man. You don't act 

this way around your usual boys, John. I think he is more 

than that to you, more than just a new toy. You are very 

gentle with him -- very protective. More possessive than I 

have seen you in a long time."

 

"I don't know," Doggett said, looking back at Brentali. 

"He's just... he's different, Sergio. I don't know why." 

Brentali was right, at least to some extent. Doggett did 

feel more protective of Byers than he'd felt about the 

other men he'd been with. Byers was as emotionally together 

as any of them, though less experienced. Doggett had 

trained and played with a few subs who'd had as little 

experience as Byers. He didn't feel that Byers needed 

gentler treatment than anyone else. The slender man's 

fragility was more illusion than reality.

 

"He's an appealing young man, John." Brentali reached out 

and took Doggett's hand for a moment. Doggett accepted the 

gesture. "He has a seriousness about him. There is 

something very intense in him. Perhaps this is what is 

calling to you. The other men you play with, they are often 

serious players, but they are not serious men. This is 

about more than just playing for you; I can feel that. I 

see it in your eyes, and the way you look when you're with 

him. You have him call you Jack. This letting someone call 

you a special name is not your usual habit at all." 

Brentali drew his hand back. "And I know you have been 

lonely since your son's death and your divorce. That was 

such a difficult, painful time for you."

 

Doggett shook his head. "I've had company enough since 

then. You know that."

 

Brentali sighed. "Company perhaps, but no one who has been 

worthy of you, I think. There was no spark in them, nothing 

to hold your interest. It is no surprise that they never 

stayed long. Such men are like swallows, John. They come 

for a season and are gone."

 

"Why are you all on about this, Sergio?" Doggett asked. 

"This isn't like you."

 

Brentali smiled, a rueful expression on his face. "Because 

I have not seen you like this before. We've been friends 

for many years, John; sometimes more than that." Brentali's 

smile softened, and a knowing look passed over his face. "I 

know you better than you think. Is it so unreasonable to 

care about a dear friend when something so unusual seems to 

be happening to him? I envy you, John. Your Mr. Byers, he 

strikes me as a good man."

 

Doggett nodded. "He is. I don't really know him all that 

well yet, but I've seen some of the things he's gotten 

himself into. He puts his ass on the line in ways you can't 

begin to understand. What he does, it's a hell of a lot 

more than just bein' some journalist." Doggett couldn't 

help the tone of admiration creeping into his voice. He 

gazed off in the direction Byers had gone. "Johnny's got 

more guts than you could ever imagine, looking at him. 

Sometimes you'd think he and his buds are real flakes, but 

they've risked their lives to find the truth." He looked 

back at Brentali. "Yeah. He's a good man."

 

Brentali looked up and motioned with his head. "He's 

returning now. He looks rather better."

 

Doggett turned toward Byers and smiled as he approached. 

"You okay?"

 

Byers nodded. He sat and took another sip of his 

cappuccino, finishing it. "Could I have another of these?" 

he asked. The few minutes of privacy had really helped him 

get himself together again. He felt like he could face the 

day now.

 

"Of course," Brentali said. He waved the server over. 

"Another cappuccino with cinnamon for my guest. I would 

like another ristretto. John, would you like another 

espresso?"

 

Doggett nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

 

"Yes, sir." The woman nodded and returned to the coffee 

bar.

 

"And what will you gentlemen be doing today, other than 

coming to pick up the suit?" Brentali asked.

 

Doggett looked to Byers. "Did you have anything in mind for 

today? We'll be doing a snazzy dinner tonight, but do you 

feel up to doing anything else?"

 

Byers tilted his head. "You know, I've always wanted to go 

visit the Statue of Liberty." 

 

Doggett smiled. "I think we can handle that. I hear the 

ferry ride's nice too. Good view of the city. I think 

you'll like that. Could be some long lines though."

 

"That's okay," Byers said. "It looks like it's going to be 

a beautiful day. As long as the sunscreen holds out, I 

should be fine."

 

"You should certainly be able to make the tour and return 

in time to get your suit," Brentali said. "I look forward 

to seeing you in it. I'm certain you'll look quite 

fabulous." He grinned at Byers.

 

Byers grinned back, looking at Brentali with lowered eyes. 

He was looking forward to it as well, though he didn't want 

to say so. He remembered how he'd felt yesterday, with 

Doggett and Brentali watching him try the suit on. They 

were doing a milder version of their territorial dance 

around him this morning, but he had to admit, it felt good. 

 

"He will," Doggett said, his voice low with arousal. He 

touched Byers' shoulder. "I can't wait." The expression in 

Doggett's eyes as he gazed at Byers was all the bearded man 

needed to know. There was want there. It felt good to be so 

wanted.

 

The amount of attention Byers had been getting since he'd 

arrived in the City with Doggett yesterday was heady and 

exciting. Brentali had expressed an interest in playing 

with him again, more than once. He'd been surprised by it, 

but hoped that at some point -- though not this weekend -- 

Doggett would consider it. Byers thought he might be able 

to go a little further next time. It ran through him, 

electric and stimulating. He enjoyed Brentali's attention, 

but wanted Doggett to claim him in front of the man. 

Doggett's words last night, insisting that Byers was his, 

had been searing in their sensuality. He wanted to feel it 

again; wanted to feel it even more deeply.

 

Byers shivered minutely at the thought of Doggett taking 

him in front of Brentali. He was beginning to get an idea 

of how much the other Dom wanted him. Letting Doggett tease 

Brentali with his body, feeling Doggett take him while the 

other Dom watched, was a fantasy that had burrowed into 

him, snaking into his bones. He finished eating his 

breakfast, trying to conceal his arousal at the thought.

 

Their coffee arrived as he finished, and he took his 

cappuccino and sipped as Doggett and Brentali made small 

talk. They caught up with Brentali's more mundane 

activities since last time Doggett had seen him. Byers knew 

there had to be more beneath the surface that the two 

wanted to discuss, but understood that this was not the 

place for such a private conversation. He was curious about 

what Brentali did at the club, how he treated his subs, and 

what kinds of things the man liked, but it wasn't his 

place, or an appropriate time to ask.

 

Doggett finished eating and wiped his hands on his napkin. 

"I gotta wash up. I'll be back in a minute."

 

Byers nodded.

 

"I'll see you shortly," Brentali said.

 

As Doggett walked away, Brentali turned to Byers. Byers 

looked over at him, curious.

 

"John," Brentali said, "I have enjoyed our conversation. I 

must leave for work when we're done here, but I wanted to 

speak to you for a moment privately."

 

"About?"

 

Brentali smiled. "I mean no insult to my old friend John, 

but if at any time you might find yourself looking for 

another Dom, I would be most pleased to have you." He 

pulled a card out of his breast pocket and handed it to 

Byers. "I do not ask you to make some secret of this. John 

obviously knows of my interest in you. But I would be quite 

delighted if you would stay in touch after you return 

home."

 

Byers took the card and looked at it. He took out his 

wallet and slid the card inside. "Thank you, Sergio," he 

said. "I have no idea what's going to happen between me and 

Jack, though I'd like to have more than just this weekend 

with him." Byers sighed, wistful. "I do appreciate your 

offer, though, and I'd definitely like to stay in touch."

 

"It never hurts to ask. I think we might be quite good 

together. I find that I like you very much. I hope that 

whatever time you spend with John is good for both of you. 

There is a great deal he can teach you. He is a fine man, 

very honorable." There was no subterfuge in Brentali's 

face. Byers didn't see any hint of ulterior motive in his 

expression, nor hear it in his tone of voice. There was 

interest, to be sure, but it seemed the sentiment was 

genuine.

 

Byers smiled, blushing. He handed Brentali a card of his 

own before slipping his wallet back into his pocket. It was 

cheerfully accepted. Byers was struck by Brentali's 

classically handsome Mediterranean features, his dignity, 

and the older man's dark, passionate eyes. Doggett was 

equally handsome to Byers, though his was a rougher, more 

athletic aesthetic. He thought of his Master's sculpted, 

muscular body as they showered that morning, of how he felt 

touching Doggett so intimately, and knew what he wanted.

 

Yet, Byers wanted to get to know Brentali better as well. 

The man intrigued him. His suave manners and the way he 

held himself gave Byers the impression of keen intelligence 

and worldly wisdom. The two Doms manifested different kinds 

of grace and strength. It was the difference between a 

nobleman and a warrior, Byers thought. Brentali seemed the 

kind of man who might be a medieval Venetian merchant-

prince, while Doggett was well suited to facing the most 

difficult physical challenges. Both would demand discipline 

and obedience; both contained a powerful, magnetic 

sensuality. He felt the appeal of the power they wielded, 

and was attracted to both men for their different kinds of 

strength and authority. 

 

"I don't know what the future holds, Sergio, but I'm very 

flattered."

 

Doggett returned to his seat a moment later. "You about 

ready?" he asked Brentali.

 

"Yes, I really must be going to work now. It was most 

enjoyable having breakfast with you both. I shall see you 

this afternoon at the shop." Brentali stood and offered his 

hand to Doggett, then Byers. "Have a fine day, gentlemen."

 

"Thanks, Sergio," Doggett said. "You too. And thanks for 

breakfast. The food was good, even if the service left a 

little to be desired."

 

"Thank you, Sergio," Byers echoed. "For breakfast, and for 

last night."

 

Brentali flashed a brilliant smile at Byers. "A pleasure, 

John. I shall see you this afternoon. Ciao, gentlemen." He 

turned his attention to the bill.

 

Doggett put an arm around Byers' shoulders. "C'mon, Johnny. 

Let's see about gettin' you a visit with the Lady."

 

LIBERTY ISLAND

NOON

 

"I never imagined she'd be this magnificent up close," 

Byers said, his voice hushed. He and Doggett stood outside 

the massive pedestal building, staring upward at the Statue 

of Liberty. Byers had a look of awe in his eyes. " She's... 

in a way, she's the personification of a dream to me. She's 

what it's all about, why I do what I do."

 

Doggett nodded. "Yeah. She's had that effect on me, too. 

But you know, all the years I lived in the City, I never 

came to visit her. I always thought of it as a tourist 

thing, you know?" He looked over at Byers. "I'm glad you 

wanted to come, Johnny. She reminds me of what I fought so 

hard for over the years."

 

Byers sighed and looked at Doggett, a shadow in his eyes. 

He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I hope 

someday the dream she symbolizes can truly manifest. The 

shadows in the shadows, they make her promise a lie for too 

many people." He shook his head sadly. "Here she stands, 

looking out to sea, and all around her the truth lies 

scattered, ruined in the dust. The lies and the deceit and 

the false promises seem to grow in it like crabgrass." 

There was a harsh sadness in Byers' voice.

 

"Do you regret coming?" Doggett asked.

 

"No. I'm glad I came. She just makes me think."

 

Doggett put a hand on Byers' arm. "Seems like everything 

makes you think."

 

Byers made a soft, rueful sound and turned his eyes to his 

feet. "'The unexamined life is not worth living,' Plato 

said. Yeah. Everything makes me think." He looked back up 

at the statue, gestured high, to her head. "While we were 

up there in her crown, looking out over the City, I felt 

it, Jack. I felt what it must have been like when this was 

a new nation, and the people had hope, and the ideals of 

liberty hadn't been sold for a few pieces of silver. What 

the immigrants a hundred years ago must have felt, seeing 

her for the first time, coming here looking for that 

dream." He looked into Doggett's eyes. "Sometimes my life 

gets so buried in the conspiracies and the disinformation 

and the obfuscation that I lose sight of it all. Sometimes 

it's hard to live in the midst of all my disillusionment."

 

"I know what you mean," Doggett said. "I think we've all 

got busted dreams and," he looked up at the weathered green 

copper of the Lady, "tarnished icons. Some of us just see 

it more clearly than others. You and me, we had our eyes 

opened, and what we've seen burns."

 

"When the French brought her here, President Cleveland 

said, 'We will not forget that Liberty has here made her 

home; nor shall her chosen altar be neglected.' So much for 

the altar of liberty," Byers said, bitter.

 

"I know you're not giving up," Doggett said. "That's not in 

you."

 

Byers looked back at Doggett, a faint, wry smile bending 

his lips. "No, you're right. I know I sound angry and 

bitter, and I am, but the truth is I still have faith. 

Faith in individuals, anyway. It never seems to matter how 

much gets thrown at me, there's always some spark of it, 

hidden down deep."

 

Doggett nodded, looking back up at the statue. "I took an 

oath when I joined the Marines, to defend the constitution 

against all enemies, foreign and domestic. These days it 

seems like there are a whole hell of a lot more domestic 

enemies than I ever imagined. It seems like they're 

everywhere."

 

"We're both doing what we can, Jack," Byers said. "We're 

both looking for the truth. We're trying to expose the men 

who want to destroy the dream, whatever their purposes. I 

watched Mulder for years, worked with him on all kinds of 

unimaginable weirdness, and sometimes I think that once you 

strip away the outer appearances, the only real differences 

between us were the gun and the badge."

 

Doggett looked to Byers again. "You and the guys, you work 

without a net. You don't have a budget or backup or the 

protection that Mulder had -- that I have. Sometimes I 

think that's the most amazing thing about you. Nobody pays 

you to do this stuff. Most of the time, if you got caught 

at it, the least that might happen is you'd end up in 

prison. How the hell do you live with that all the time?"

 

Byers thought for a few moments. "The guys and I, we do 

this because we can't do anything else. We have a 

responsibility that we can't fulfill any other way. Working 

inside the government would tie our hands and prevent us 

from investigating a lot of the things we look into. But 

it's not... it's not really a case of the ends justifying 

the means. I worry about that a lot, because I know it 

might look that way sometimes. We do what we need to, but 

there are lines we just don't cross. The men we 

investigate, they have no lines, no uncrossable boundaries. 

Nothing seems forbidden to them. There's nothing they 

wouldn't stoop to. I wonder sometimes if there's anything 

they haven't done in their desire for power and control 

over us all."

 

"You ever afraid?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers eyed him solemnly. "Always."

 

Doggett nodded, regarding Byers silently. His companion 

been very quiet since breakfast, and silent as they'd stood 

in the crown. He'd watched Byers as he looked out over the 

city, lost in thought, an inscrutable look on his face. 

 

Byers began walking slowly around the base of the statue, 

quiet, an intense sadness reflected on his face and in his 

posture. Doggett moved to catch up with him.

 

"What if it wasn't like this," Doggett said, "if the 

conspiracies and the corruption and all the weird-assed 

shit we've dealt with didn't exist. What would you do?"

 

Byers shook his head. "I don't know. I'm not sure I can 

even imagine it anymore. Once, I thought I knew, but that 

dream's gone. My life is too different, and I'm not the man 

who could have lived like that anymore."

 

Doggett's hand went to Byers' back, making soft contact as 

they walked. "I'm not talking about reality, Johnny. I'm 

just curious. Being who you are now, what would you want if 

you could walk away from it all today? If you could be 

anything, do anything you wanted? Would you keep doin' the 

paper? Would you still live with the guys? Would you go 

somewhere else, do something else?"

 

Byers sighed. "I don't think I could ever leave the guys. I 

might not live under the same roof with them, but they're 

the best friends I've ever had. They're closer to me than 

my own family ever was. They accept me for what I am, and 

that's been rare in my life. No, I wouldn't leave them. But 

I don't know what I'd do. I guess I'd try to find someone 

to love, someone who loved me; settle down somewhere." He 

thought of Langly, and closed his eyes for a moment. A 

fantasy was all it could ever be, and he knew it. 

 

"Maybe... maybe I'd be a writer. Maybe I'd go back to 

college and get a Masters or a Doctorate and teach. Maybe 

I'd code for a living. Maybe I'd be a research librarian 

or an archivist. I haven't thought about it much, really. 

There's been no reason to." Byers looked at Doggett.

 

"I don't know," Doggett said. "Those sound like good things 

to want. Basic stuff. A quiet life, somebody to love that 

loves you back. Makes perfect sense to me."

 

"What about you?" Byers asked.

 

Doggett chuckled. "You probably won't believe this, but I 

think I'd be doin' pretty much what I'm doin' right now. 

Even if the conspiracies vanished tomorrow, there would 

still be plain old crooks around that needed catching. I 

don't think we're ever gonna run out of bad guys."

 

Byers smiled and snorted. "You're probably right."

 

They continued walking, heading for the ferry dock. "You 

getting hungry?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers nodded. "Food sounds good. Not here though."

 

"Shit no. National Park food? Stuff would gag a starving 

rat."

 

Byers smiled, more with his eyes than his mouth. "What did 

you have in mind?"

 

"I know a real good deli," Doggett said. "Best damned 

Reubens around."

 

"That sounds like it has potential," Byers said.

 

"Cheesecake afterwards, at Junior's? The Grand Central 

Station kiosk?"

 

Byers' eyes lit up. "Why aren't we there already?"

 

"Because you haven't got your ass on board the boat." 

Doggett chuckled as they approached the boarding area. They 

boarded together, Doggett's hand still at Byers' back. "You 

wanna sit somewhere, or hang out on the deck?"

 

"I think I'd like to stand on the deck and watch the 

water," Byers said. "It'll be cooler there with the wind 

coming over the water than in the passenger cabin."

 

Doggett nodded. The weather had taken a turn toward the 

typical sticky humidity of a New York summer, and the 

breeze would feel good. Byers found a convenient place near 

the bow, and leaned on the railing. Doggett leaned next to 

him.

 

Byers was quiet as the boat loaded, looking out at the 

City's skyline, lost in thought. All around them, tourists 

watched the water and the skyline. Most of them took photos 

and chattered loudly.

 

Doggett decided not to disturb Byers, falling into his own 

silence. He thought Byers seemed a little more withdrawn 

since breakfast, but figured that the man was still just 

working through last night in his head. As the passenger 

ferry pulled away from the island, Byers looked up at him.

 

"Tell me about Sergio," Byers said.

 

"You seem to be pretty interested in him," Doggett said.

 

Byers sighed. "Well, sort of, yes. I think he's more 

interested in me, really."

 

"Yeah. He is."

 

"At breakfast, while you were away, he gave me his card. 

Wanted me to stay in touch with him." Byers blushed a 

little. "He said if I was ever looking for another Dom, I 

should look him up."

 

Doggett chuckled. "Doesn't surprise me, the way he's been 

acting around you."

 

"What do you think of him?" Byers asked. "Really."

 

"He's an old friend," Doggett said. "I've known him for 

years. He knew me before I was married. He sorta showed me 

the ropes when I started getting interested in playing like 

this."

 

Byers lifted an eyebrow and spoke softly. "Were you and 

he..." 

 

Doggett didn't answer the unfinished question. "If you ever 

did end up with him, I know he'd be good to you. He'd treat 

you right, teach you a lot. Sergio's a decent guy. I've 

always been able to trust him."

 

Byers paused, thinking about it, then nodded. "I'll keep 

that in mind."

 

Doggett slipped behind Byers, sliding his arms around him 

as the bearded man leaned on the railing. Resting his chin 

on Byers' shoulder, he said, "As long as you remember I'm 

not done with you yet."

 

Byers leaned his cheek into Doggett's hair and chuckled. "I 

should hope not. The weekend's not even over yet. You can't 

dump me until I get the Armani."

 

"And dinner," Doggett said. "And the show. Don't forget the 

show."

 

"Oh, god, how could I forget the show?" Byers said in mock 

horror.

 

"Goof," Doggett said, sliding his body closer to the man in 

his arms. 

 

Byers shifted slightly. "Are you sure we should be doing 

this in public?"

 

"Everybody's too busy lookin' at the view to bother lookin' 

at us, Johnny. It's okay here." He raised his head and 

nuzzled Byers' ear, breathing into it gently and running 

the tip of his tongue along its edge.

 

A delicate shiver ran through Byers' body and he sighed. 

"I'm not used to this," he said. "It feels good, Jack, but 

it doesn't feel safe, if you know what I mean. Especially 

after that waitress at breakfast. I just think we should be 

a little more circumspect."

 

Doggett nodded. He didn't want to push Byers' boundaries 

for something minor like this, at least not today. "Okay," 

he said, loosening his arms and stepping back to the 

railing. He turned his head to look at Byers. "But 

sometimes, you really are more paranoid than you need to 

be."

 

"No matter how paranoid you are, you're not paranoid 

enough," Byers said. "I prefer to keep things more private. 

You never know who's watching. Or what."

 

"What actually happened there, anyway?" Doggett asked. "I 

just saw you and Sergio getting upset, and figured she must 

have had some kinda reaction to us."

 

Byers nodded. "She saw your hand in my lap, saw you rubbing 

my thigh, and gave me a rather dirty look before she turned 

away. It really wasn't much, but I've already got more than 

enough people out there who'd just as soon kill me as look 

at me. I don't like giving anybody more reasons." He 

sighed.

 

"I understand. But there are times and places where it 

should be okay for us to just be who we are. I don't talk 

about it at work or anything, but I'm not hiding very much 

when I'm on my own time. Like I said, Monica knows."

 

"Did your ex?" Byers asked. 

 

Doggett was surprised at the question. "No."

 

"Were you... seeing anyone while you were married to her?"

 

Doggett looked down into the water. "Not until after Luke 

died. Things were pretty strained after that. We tried to 

work it out, but it wasn't happening, so I started going 

back to the club. I'd been with guys before we married, but 

afterwards, no. Not until things started falling apart, 

anyway. She thought I was seeing Monica because we were 

working together on the case, and she'd be around the 

house, but it wasn't true. I didn't start seeing her until 

after Barb and I split."

 

"I'm sorry," Byers said. "That wasn't any of my business. I 

had no right to ask you that."

 

"It's okay," Doggett told him. "It surprised me, but it 

didn't bother me. We don't know each other too well yet. I 

guess this is just part of that."

 

"We'll be pulling into the dock again in just a minute," 

Byers said, looking up.

 

Doggett looked up with him. "We'll get a cab when we get 

out of here. The deli's gonna be crowded, but the food's 

worth it." He straightened up and rested a hand on Byers' 

back again. "Come on."

 

ARMANI EXCHANGE

AFTERNOON

 

"Ah, so good to see you again," Brentali said. "Did your 

visit go well?"

 

Doggett and Byers looked at each other. "Yeah," Doggett 

said. "It was a good morning for it." 

 

Brentali stood before Byers, laying a hand on his shoulder. 

"Your suit is ready for the final fitting, and I must say, 

I'm very much looking forward to seeing it on you, John," 

he said, a purr in his voice.

 

Byers could feel the purr slide down his spine. It caught 

his breath, and even if he'd had his eyes closed, he would 

have felt Brentali's gaze as it swept up and down his body. 

Standing between the two Doms was like walking through a 

high voltage field. He felt the hair on his body rise.

 

"So let's get on with it," Doggett said. 

 

Byers felt Doggett move closer, hand sliding along his 

waist in response to Brentali's touch. The two men might be 

old friends, but Doggett's territorialism was expressing 

itself loudly. Brentali stepped back with a smile and led 

the way to the fitting room. Doggett's hand slid softly 

across Byers' ass before the contact was gone, and they 

followed Brentali. Byers closed his eyes and took a deep 

breath as they walked, trying to settle himself. The sexual 

tension between the three of them vibrated around him.

 

He could almost feel himself between them, naked, their 

hands on him, their mouths hot and sweet, their bare bodies 

caressing his -- he pushed the thought from his mind and 

blinked, focusing. As they entered the fitting room, 

Brentali called on Ernesto, who had been there yesterday.

 

"Espresso for Mr. Doggett, and cappuccino with cinnamon for 

Mr. Byers," Brentali said.

 

"Yes, sir," the young man replied, and scurried off to 

bring coffee.

 

"John," Brentali said, waving Byers up to him, "come here, 

please." Byers followed him. "Frederick!" Brentali said.

 

The tailor appeared from between a set of racks in the back 

of the room. "Yes, Mr. Brentali?"

 

"Mr. Byers has returned for his final fitting."

 

"Oh, yes sir." The tailor smiled. "Please, come with me," 

he said, motioning to Byers. He disappeared into the racks 

again for a moment, then reappeared with the suit, and 

several other items of clothing. A moment later, he led 

Byers back into the dressing rooms.

 

"He told me you talked to him at breakfast," Doggett said, 

settling into the couch.

 

Brentali nodded. "I knew he would. I told him he should do 

so."

 

"You know I don't mind you talkin' to him, or even seeing 

him," Doggett said, "but I don't want you trying to take 

him away from me."

 

Brentali nodded as Ernesto returned with the coffee, 

placing the cups on the small table next to the couch. The 

clerk vanished as quickly as he'd come.

 

"Have I ever done such a thing to you?" Brentali asked, 

looking over at Doggett.

 

Doggett shook his head. "No."

 

"You know I am trustworthy, John. And I don't believe he 

would come to me at this time even if I wanted to make such 

an attempt. I simply offered him choices for later." 

Brentali seated himself next to Doggett on the couch. "You 

yourself have so often said that you rarely see the same 

man for very long."

 

"I know." Doggett sat looking at Brentali for a moment. 

"But I don't think I've ever had a guy that you were this 

interested in before." He grinned and sipped at his 

espresso.

 

Brentali laughed. "This is also true," he said. "Besides, 

he is too shy to wander from Dom to Dom looking for 

perfection. I think he will be with you for a while, unless 

you dismiss him. Or at least that he would seek your 

permission before he moved on to someone else."

 

Doggett pondered Brentali's words as he drank his coffee. 

He nodded. "Yeah, he probably would."

 

Both men were distracted as the tailor led Byers out to the 

dias. Doggett's eyes widened, and he heard Brentali's sharp 

but quiet inhalation. Byers was stunning. The suit 

flattered the man's body, giving an illusion of broader 

shoulders tapering down to his slender waist and hips. The 

grey of the suit and the deep burgundy of the shirt and tie 

brought out the color of his skin and eyes. Byers was 

looking at himself in the wall of mirrors, a broad, pleased 

smile on his face. 

 

"Mmmm..." Doggett rumbled a quiet sound of appreciation. 

Byers seemed to be standing taller than he had been before, 

the slight slouch gone, shoulders back, head high. The 

difference was amazing. Doggett felt a stirring in his 

pants, and his chest tightened as he looked at his sub. 

"Damn," he said quietly, "he looks good."

 

"Oh, yes, my friend," Brentali whispered. 

 

Doggett grinned. "Put a bow on him and I'll take him just 

like that."

 

Brentali chuckled. "You must pay for the suit and the other 

clothing first, John. But yes, I do agree. I should like to 

take him myself."

 

"Can't wait to unwrap that package," Doggett said. He could 

see the flush of arousal on Brentali's skin and in his 

dilated pupils. He raised his voice slightly. "Turn around 

for us, Johnny."

 

Byers looked over at them, still smiling, and did as 

Doggett instructed.

 

"Are you sure you don't want to share?" Brentali asked, his 

voice wistful but low with lust.

 

Doggett looked at him and snorted. "Not even in your 

dreams, Sergio. He's mine tonight." He turned his eyes back 

to Byers, who was moving slowly in a circle on the dias.

 

"We should check the seams and the fit," Brentali 

suggested, rising from the couch. Doggett rose to follow 

him.

 

"You look damned good, Johnny," Doggett said as they 

stepped onto the dias.

 

Byers' broad smile brightened. "This is great," he said, 

excited. "I don't think I've ever looked this good in my 

life."

 

"Remove the jacket, please," Brentali said. "Let's see how 

the cut lies on you."

 

Byers unbuttoned the jacket and handed it to the tailor. 

Brentali bent to examine the seams, tugging here and there. 

Byers looked down at him, looking slightly embarrassed as 

Brentali's hands moved on his legs and his waist, wakening 

an erection. Doggett noticed Byers' condition, and it only 

served to stimulate him more. He wanted to drag Byers back 

to their room that instant and do terrible things to him.

 

"This is a fine job, Frederick," Brentali said. "Excellent, 

as always." Brentali's fingers slid up the side of Byers' 

hip as he stood to face the tailor.

 

"Thank you, sir," the tailor said. "Will that be all?"

 

Brentali nodded. "Yes, go to the dressing room and wait a 

moment for Mr. Byers to return, then get the merchandise 

ready for the sale. Thank you."

 

The tailor left for the dressing room, leaving the three 

men alone in the fitting room.

 

Doggett placed a hand in the center of Byers' chest, taking 

in the sensual feel of the burgundy silk under his palm. 

With a slow, gentle stroke, his hand slid to Byers' waist. 

The cloth was soft, and Byers gasped quietly at the touch. 

He moved a step closer and bent to Byers' ear. "I should 

take you right here," he whispered.

 

Byers' eyes closed and he swallowed, breath quickening, his 

fast pulse pounding visibly at his throat.

 

"I bet you'd love to have Sergio watch, wouldn't you."

 

Byers whimpered. 

 

Brentali looked at Doggett. "You shouldn't tease him so," 

he said. "But I must tell you, the effect is delicious." 

Brentali touched Byers behind his other ear, then slipped 

his fingers down the younger man's neck to the line of the 

shirt's collar.

 

Byers shivered and gasped. Brentali's fingers moved over 

Byers' collar, then down over the silk on his chest, 

ghosting over a nipple on their way to his hip. Byers 

moaned quietly, trembling.

 

"Go change, then come sit down and have your cappuccino, 

Johnny," Doggett said. "Don't forget to bring the suit and 

stuff with you." He moved his hand from Byers' waist up to 

his chest again and pinched his other nipple before he 

stood back. 

 

Byers whimpered again, then sighed as both men's hands left 

his body. He opened his eyes and looked at the men standing 

in front of him. "Yes, Sir," he whispered to Doggett, his 

voice unsteady. Doggett could see the heat in Byers' eyes.

 

Doggett and Brentali moved back to the couch as Byers 

hurried to the dressing room.

 

"You have such style," Brentali said.

 

Doggett grinned. "I learned from the best." He picked up 

his espresso again and sipped.

 

Brentali chuckled and pulled a pad from his breast pocket. 

Taking a pen, he wrote up an invoice. "It's gratifying to 

see you play him like a fine instrument."

 

Doggett took another sip at his espresso, silent. The look 

in Byers' eyes and the sound of his voice were still 

running hot in Doggett's veins. He wanted nothing more than 

to get the man back to their room and see that look again, 

where he could do something about it. His fantasy of Byers 

in the Armani was close now.

 

"Here is your total, John," Brentali said, handing Doggett 

the invoice.

 

Doggett looked at it and nodded. He pulled out his wallet 

and handed Brentali two credit cards. "The suit on this 

one," he said, indicating one of them, "and the rest of the 

stuff on this."

 

Brentali took the cards and rose, moving to the door of the 

fitting room. He called Ernesto, and the clerk arrived 

quickly. "Please take Mr. Doggett's cards. Use this one for 

this charge, and the other for the rest of the items."

 

"Yes, sir," the clerk replied, and vanished again.

 

"He shall return shortly with your receipts for your 

signature," Brentali said.

 

Doggett nodded. "Right."

 

Byers approached from the dressing room, the suit bagged on 

a hanger slung over his shoulder, a box under his other 

arm. The tailor followed him after a moment, then left the 

room.

 

"Have a seat," Doggett said, indicating the space next to 

him on the couch. 

 

Byers put the suit and box down on the arm of the couch and 

sat. He looked at the cappuccino cup. "May I?" 

 

Doggett passed it over to him. Brentali returned and sat on 

a chair near them.

 

"You look really good in that, Johnny," Doggett said. "I 

want you to wear it at dinner tonight."

 

"Of course," Byers said, nodding as he held the cup to his 

lips. He looked like he'd collected himself again while he 

was changing back into the jeans and shirt he'd chosen for 

the day. Doggett noticed Byers was watching him and 

Brentali over the rim of his cup, his clear blue eyes 

curious and alert.

 

"Do you like it?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers smiled as he set the cup on its saucer. "Yeah. It 

looks really good. I was amazed."

 

"You weren't the only one," Doggett said softly.

 

"You wear it well," Brentali said, a slight note of regret 

in his voice. "Will I be seeing you again before you 

leave?"

 

"I'm not sure," Doggett said. "Probably not, though. 

Tomorrow's pretty full, and we're leaving for D.C. early 

Monday because I've gotta be back at work that morning."

 

Brentali leaned back in his chair. "Should you bring him to 

the City with you next time you visit, you must let me know 

ahead of time. We should set aside some time to visit. 

Perhaps you will come to my house."

 

Doggett looked over at Byers, who seemed surprised. "If I 

bring him again, I'll let you know."

 

Byers' face flushed slightly, but his expression didn't 

change. Doggett could hear his breathing quicken again, 

though, and knew the quiet man wanted that visit. A lot 

depended on how the rest of the weekend went. And on what 

happened after they both got home. He watched for a few 

minutes as Byers turned his attention back to his 

cappuccino, focusing on the coffee.

 

The clerk returned with Doggett's receipts. Doggett signed 

them, and took his copies and his cards back.

 

"Well," Doggett said, setting his empty cup down and rising 

from the couch, "we've gotta be goin' and I know you have 

work to do. Thanks for everything, Sergio. It was really 

good seeing you again." He reached out and shook Brentali's 

hand, and the Italian gave Doggett a quick kiss on either 

cheek.

 

"You should not be so long between visits, John. The 

journey up here isn't so far. You still have friends here, 

you know."

 

Doggett smiled, genuine affection in his eyes. "I know, 

Sergio. The job takes me all over the place, though, and 

it's hard to make plans, or to get away. I'll try to do 

better. You say hi to Mac and Artie for me, would you? Tell 

'em I'm sorry I missed 'em this trip."

 

"Of course, of course." Brentali turned to Byers. "And I 

hope I shall see you again, John. You know how to contact 

me." He held a hand out to Byers.

 

"I hope so too, Sergio," Byers said, shaking Brentali's 

hand, a shy smile on his face. "I'll be in touch."

 

"Yes," Brentali whispered. His fingers trailed slowly 

across Byers' palm as their hands parted.

 

"Come on, Johnny," Doggett said. "Grab your suit and 

stuff." His hand found the small of Byers' back again as 

they walked away.

 

"Oh, John --" Brentali laid a hand on Doggett's shoulder. 

Byers didn't notice, continuing out the door without him.

 

Byers walked down the street for a few blocks when his 

attention was caught by a shout, and an armed man running 

down the street toward him. Jumping back, Byers pressed 

himself into the wall of the building behind him as the 

sidewalk cleared. Two officers with drawn guns ran in 

pursuit of the man, shouting at him to stop. People dropped 

to the sidewalk as a shot was fired, and Byers ducked into 

a doorway.

 

Nervous, Byers looked around for Doggett. Not seeing him 

nearby, Byers scanned the street for the tall, handsome 

man. He saw no one even vaguely resembling him. Two more 

shots rang through the air, and he heard screams. Looking 

around quickly, close to panic, Byers realized they must 

have been separated in the confusion. The only logical 

thing to do was get back to the hotel as fast as he could 

and wait for Doggett there. He hoped everything would be 

all right. He ducked and ran.

 

***

 

When Doggett finished talking to Brentali, he looked up. 

Byers was missing.

 

"Damn," he said. "Johnny must have wandered off when we 

were talking."

 

"I'm sure he is nearby, John," Brentali said. "It's 

unlikely that he would leave without your permission, 

unless he did not realize you were not with him."

 

"Well shit," Doggett said. "I gotta go find him."

 

"He will probably return to the hotel if you are unable to 

locate him. John is an intelligent man."

 

Doggett nodded. "Yeah. That would figure. I gotta go."

 

He walked out into the street and heard shots not far away. 

Looking for the source of the sound, he scanned the street 

quickly. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw two 

uniformed officers pursuing a man down the street. He 

turned and ran to intercept the fleeing perp.

 

"FBI! Freeze!" he shouted. The running man looked at him 

and fired. Doggett abruptly shifted his trajectory, though 

he knew the man had fired wide of him. He had to be stopped 

before he killed a bystander.

 

The two officers had seen him and heard him shout. One 

pointed in an arc along the street, indicating where 

Doggett should move, and he sprinted in that direction. 

Another shot, and the three converged, trapping the perp 

along a wall in front of Rockefeller Plaza. As the man 

tried to take aim at one of the cops, Doggett body-slammed 

him into the stone. They fell in a breathless heap on the 

sidewalk.

 

The runner struggled, wild-eyed and far stronger than he 

should have been. Doggett did his best to keep him pinned, 

wrestling the perp for his gun. Seconds later, the two 

officers dashed up. One held a gun on them while the other 

threw himself into the fray to help Doggett disarm the man.

 

Once the perp was disarmed and cuffed, Doggett was immersed 

in explanations of his presence. He started filling out 

paperwork, and giving a statement as soon as he was able to 

catch his breath. The cops' radios rattled with static and 

reports. With at least half a dozen shots fired, several 

civilians were down, and there were ambulances on the way. 

General descriptions of the shooter's victims came over the 

radios several minutes later, and Doggett's heart stopped.

 

"...male Caucasian, probably mid-thirty's, blue eyes, dark 

hair, beard..."

 

"Oh, Jesus. Johnny." Doggett's eyes widened. His stomach 

knotted.

 

"What's up?" one of the cops asked him.

 

"I'm in town with a friend -- that could be him." He looked 

around for the nearest ambulance.

 

"Oh, man. Go check it out. Take this." The cop handed him a 

card. "We'll have you finish the paperwork later."

 

Doggett ran down the street, looking for one of the medics. 

He waved his bureau ID to get close enough to the ambulance 

to find an EMT. "FBI," Doggett said. "Somewhere you got a 

guy, mid-thirty's, blue eyes, beard -- where is he?"

 

"Over there," the EMT said, pointing a few yards down the 

sidewalk. Two other medics were bent over a body on the 

pavement, obscuring Doggett's view. Doggett hurried to 

them, breathless.

 

The man on the sidewalk was covered with blood, his face 

partly concealed by an oxygen mask. "Guys, please, let me 

take a look at him. I got a friend gone missin' in the 

crowd. This might be him."

 

"Who are you?" the blond medic asked. He grabbed a syringe 

as the other medic inserted a saturate saline IV into the 

man's arm. 

 

Doggett was breathless, panting. "FBI. Please, just let me 

take a look." He flashed his badge and ID at the man.

 

"Move your arm, Phil," the medic said. The other EMT 

shifted slightly, allowing a better view of the fallen 

man's face.

 

Doggett leaned in closer, half panicked.

 

It wasn't Byers. He took a deep breath and let it out. 

"Thank god. It's not him. Sorry to bother you."

 

After Doggett's heart stopped slamming into his ribs, he 

spent most of the next hour filling out paperwork. He was 

relieved that he hadn't brought his gun, figuring he'd have 

had to fire it, and then he'd have been there all night. 

Lost in the bustle of the work, he forgot the time. 

Eventually, he looked down at his watch. With a start, he 

realized that Byers was probably back at the hotel, 

freaking out, wondering where he was.

 

He ran for a cab.

 

PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL

ROOM 1246

MID-AFTERNOON

 

Byers paced the living room of the hotel suite, close to 

panic. He'd been waiting for Doggett for almost an hour and 

a half, and his cell phone was turned off or maybe the 

battery was dead, so Byers had been unable to raise him. 

What the hell had happened, and why had Doggett been gone 

so long? Had he gotten involved in the police pursuit? That 

would be about par for the man's personality. Compulsive 

law enforcement behavior definitely had its down side.

 

His paranoid imagination saw Doggett bleeding somewhere, 

wounded. Byers shuddered. He went to the phone stand and 

pulled out the yellow pages, flipping to the hospital 

section. As he reached for the phone, the doorknob rattled.

 

Byers jerked around at the sound.

 

"Johnny?" Doggett's voice was urgent.

 

Byers hurried to Doggett, reaching out to touch his arm. 

"Jack, are you okay?" he asked, breathless. "What happened? 

Where were you?" Doggett took him into his arms, and held 

him close. Byers returned the embrace. "I've been going 

crazy worrying about you. I couldn't get you on your cell. 

I was just about to start calling emergency rooms. What the 

hell was going on?"

 

Doggett took a slow, deliberate breath. He loosened his 

grip on Byers and pushed him gently toward the couch. "I 

need to sit down," he said. He pulled his phone from his 

belt. "Damn, the battery's drained," he said.

 

"What happened?" Byers said again, sitting and pulling 

Doggett down next to him.

 

Doggett looked at him. "Sergio stopped me to ask me a 

question when we were leaving. When I turned around, you 

were gone. I walked out into the street to look for you and 

the next thing I knew, I was in the middle of a fuckin' 

firefight."

 

"Well, why did it take you so long to get here?" Byers was 

worried and angry.

 

"I went after the perp."

 

Byers glared at Doggett. "You *what*? There were people 

shooting out there! What the hell were you thinking? Did 

you have your gun with you?" he shouted.

 

"Uh, no." Doggett looked sheepish. "I didn't think about it 

until after it was all over. I just ran to help out."

 

Byers closed his eyes and counted to ten, then spoke 

slowly, not wanting to shout again. "You went after a guy 

with a gun, unarmed."

 

"Yeah."

 

"And he was shooting at people."

 

"Yep."

 

"Jack, that was incredibly stupid of you."

 

Doggett shook his head. "It's what I do, Johnny. You know 

that."

 

Byers sighed and took Doggett's hand. "You're not on duty, 

Jack. This isn't even your jurisdiction."

 

Doggett nodded. "I know. I just reacted. I was a cop here 

for years; it was instinct."

 

"It was dangerous."

 

"Everything's dangerous. Breathing's dangerous. Who knows 

what you could be inhalin'?"

 

Byers' lips twisted into an ironic smile. "I think that's 

my line."

 

"Johnny," Doggett said, subdued, "they had some civilians 

down on the street. I had no idea where you were, or what 

happened to you." He swallowed, forehead wrinkling. "One of 

'em... one of 'em answered your description. At first, I 

thought he might be you and I had to find out. Guy was shot 

up pretty bad. I was worried."

 

Byers closed his eyes. "Oh, damn. I'm sorry." He looked 

back up at Doggett, concerned. "I had no idea. Are... are 

you okay?"

 

"Yeah. Yeah, I am. But just be here for a while, okay?" 

Doggett said softly. He pulled Byers into his arms and 

buried his face in Byers' hair, holding him tight.

 

Byers inhaled deeply, letting his breath out slow. He 

settled his back into Doggett's broad chest and pulled his 

legs up onto the couch. "I'm here, Jack. I'm fine." He 

could feel Doggett's breath, warm in his hair. The feeling 

was comforting and relaxing, and he hoped that Doggett was 

feeling some of that sensation as well. Doggett's arms 

around him reminded him of the morning, when Doggett had 

held him in the shower. He wanted to lose himself in his 

Master's strength again, knowing the sensation of safety 

was a lie. 

 

They sat curled together, silent, for almost an hour. 

Neither of them moved, except to shift their weight from 

time to time. 

 

Doggett held Byers, face hidden in his sub's hair, 

breathing in the scent of him. It was soothing to just sit 

with the man in his arms. Byers was paranoid and a little 

twitchy, but once they'd settled into each other, he had 

been a steady, firm presence. The warmth of Byers' body was 

comforting after the scare he'd had. Doggett appreciated 

it, though he recognized the sharp, acrid hint of lingering 

fear in Byers' scent.

 

Eventually, he trailed his lips down to Byers' ear, kissing 

it softly. "I want you," he whispered.

 

Byers' arms tightened around his, one hand taking his 

wrist. "What do you want, Jack?" His voice was quiet and 

thoughtful.

 

"Nothing fancy. No toys. Just you." Doggett needed to give 

his relief at finding Byers safe a physical outlet, and 

release his anxiety. He shifted on the couch, turning 

Byers' head with one hand, and their lips met, soft and 

gentle. Doggett ran the tip of his tongue along Byers' 

lips, and the man's mouth opened, accepting the warm, wet 

flesh. They sighed together.

 

"Bedroom?" Byers asked.

 

"No, here. I don't want to move. I want you here."

 

Byers turned his body to him. After a second soft kiss, he 

began unbuttoning Doggett's shirt. Doggett's hands slid 

over Byers' body, caressing his back and shoulders as Byers 

opened his shirt and leaned in to kiss his throat.

 

Doggett felt Byers' lips on him, beard tickling, his tongue 

running along the line of his collarbone as Byers' hands 

roamed over his chest. Tension seeped out of Doggett's body 

as Byers moved, kissing and stroking his ribs. He reached 

to Byers' waist and tugged the shirt from his pants, then 

pulled it up over Byers' head. Byers let him pull it off, 

then went back to his silent kisses.

 

"Get up for a second," he told Byers. As his sub shifted 

and stood, he slid the length of his body onto the couch. 

"Come here," he said, pulling Byers down on top of him. 

Their bare chests met, arms around each other, and he 

closed his eyes and sighed at the feel of Byers' weight on 

him. It was comforting and solid. He wanted the man more 

for reassurance than for heat and desire. 

 

Sliding his hands down Byers' back, he cupped the slim, 

firm ass in his hands and pulled him down against his 

groin. The feel of Byers' hardening cock against his body, 

their legs intertwined, sparked his own erection and he 

pressed up slow and hard into Byers' hips. They kissed 

again, harder and deeper this time, groaning. Byers thrust 

down into him, and Doggett's body answered, hungry.

 

After long minutes of slow writhing together, Doggett 

reached between them to unbutton Byers' jeans. With a quick 

motion, he pulled the zipper down, then tugged them down 

over Byers' hips to his thighs. "Take 'em off," he panted.

 

Byers kicked off his sneakers and pulled his jeans and 

boxers off. Before he tossed them aside, he reached into 

one pocket and pulled out a condom and a small tube of 

lube. He handed them to Doggett, pulled his socks off, and 

lowered himself back onto Doggett's body, his knees on 

either side of Doggett's hips. Doggett dropped the condom 

and lube onto the rug next to the couch and pulled Byers' 

mouth to his with both hands, kissing him and stealing his 

breath entirely.

 

Byers broke the kiss, leaning back to breathe heavily. He 

tugged at Doggett's fly, opening it, then slid Doggett's 

jeans down far enough to expose his hard, thick rod. Before 

Doggett could say anything, Byers' fist was around him, 

stroking him. He moaned, deep and urgent. Reaching up, he 

stroked Byers' chest, then ran his hands down the man's 

sides to his hips. Searching fingers caressed Byers' ass, 

spreading his cheeks.

 

"Jack," Byers whispered, his eyes closing. He moved up 

Doggett's body, still stroking him, letting Doggett reach 

down to play with the soft, puckered skin of his entrance.

 

"Want to fuck you, Johnny," Doggett gasped. His hips bucked 

up into Byers' body.

 

Byers was panting. "Yes." He reached down and grabbed the 

condom, opening the packet, then lubed Doggett's shaft. 

With a slow, steady stroke, Byers rolled the condom onto 

him. Doggett let him spread more lube on his aching dick, 

then held his hand up for some of the lube. Byers squeezed 

some out onto his fingers, then leaned forward to let 

Doggett slide a finger into him. He groaned as Doggett 

penetrated him.

 

Doggett felt a cool thread of liquid drip onto his stomach 

from Byers' cock. Byers' eyes were closed, an enraptured 

expression on his face. Doggett was surprised by how ready 

his sub was, so he slid two more fingers into him.

 

"Ohhhhhhhh, god Jack, yes. Fuck me." Byers' voice was heavy 

with need.

 

Doggett pulled his sub's hips over his own, then guided the 

man down and let Byers slowly impale himself on his thick, 

swollen shaft. He grunted as Byers slid down his length and 

took him in. Byers groaned, deep and throaty.

 

"Please, Jack." Byers was trembling. He spoke through 

gritted teeth. "I want it hard. Take me hard."

 

Doggett's heart skipped a beat at the intensity of Byers' 

request, and he dug his fingers into the man's hips and 

thrust up, striking deep into Byers' body. They both cried 

out, wordless, reveling in the feeling.

 

After a few strokes, they fell into a hard, fast rhythm. 

Byers rode Doggett, eyes closed, moaning, tossing his head 

as Doggett drove into him. 

 

"God, Johnny, so good--" Doggett grunted again as he thrust 

hard into Byers. He was gasping, his senses overwhelmed by 

the tight heat of Byers' ass squeezing and stroking him. 

Pulling Byers down to his chest, he wrapped his arms around 

him and kissed the groaning, bucking man. Tongues 

entwining, their teeth clicked together as their mouths 

moved urgently. Byers' arms tucked under Doggett's body and 

he could feel the man's fingers digging into his shoulder 

muscles. Byers' hands were stronger than he'd realized, but 

the discomfort was far outpaced by the intense pleasure of 

fucking the man, and he moaned into Byers' mouth.

 

Doggett could feel Byers' body tensing, and knew he was 

close to coming. He grabbed Byers' hips and slammed into 

him twice, three times, as Byers shuddered and shouted, 

spraying come between them, biting down on his shoulder.

 

"Aaaaaah!" The sudden pain pushed Doggett over the edge. He 

kept bucking into Byers, thrusting into the man's tight 

core with all his strength, shouting as he spasmed and 

came. His thrusts slowed as he panted and gasped. Byers' 

body was limp, slumped on top of him, panting equally hard.

 

"God, Jack," Byers gasped, "oh, god."

 

They clung together on the couch, catching their breath, 

bodies still joined. Doggett kissed Byers' neck, sucking 

the soft flesh gently. 

 

"Need to move," Byers panted, "back hurts."

 

"Shit, sorry," Doggett said, releasing him from his awkward 

position. Byers sat up and stretched his lower back, still 

impaled on Doggett's softening cock. 

 

Byers let Doggett slide out of him, then stretched the 

length of his body out over Doggett's own. He sighed as he 

settled down again, and Doggett wrapped his arms around 

him. They rested for a few minutes.

 

"We're gonna need a shower," Doggett said. He ran his 

fingers over Byers' cheek. "God, you're so good."

 

Byers kissed him softly. "I really needed that," he said. 

"Thanks."

 

"Me too," Doggett said. "Feeling better?"

 

Byers nodded. "Yeah. You?"

 

"Uh huh." Doggett rubbed his shoulders where Byers had 

grabbed and bitten him. "I think I'm gonna have bruises."

 

"Oh, damn. I'm sorry, Jack." Byers gave him an embarrassed 

look. "I didn't mean to do that. I was a little out of it 

there."

 

Doggett nodded. "It happens. At least it'll be under my 

shirt where nobody'll see it."

 

"Let's go get cleaned up," Byers said. He rose from the 

couch, offering Doggett a hand up.

 

Doggett took Byers' hand and got up as well, pulling his 

clothes off. His shirt was a mess, semen spattering the 

front on one side. His jeans had survived intact, at least. 

He pulled the condom off and tossed it as they entered the 

bathroom. Byers was starting the water, leaning into the 

shower stall. Doggett could see the beginning of bruises on 

Byers' hips where he'd held him.

 

"Looks like both of us are gonna have some sore spots, 

Johnny." He ran his hand over the still-red fingerprints on 

Byers' hips. "Sorry about that."

 

Byers looked down at the bruised spots and sighed. "At 

least they won't keep me from sitting down," he said with a 

soft snort.

 

Doggett pushed Byers into the shower and followed him in. 

They had marked each other. It hadn't been intentional, but 

there it was; tangible evidence of their sex and the 

intensity of their joining. Semen would wash away, but the 

bruises would linger for days. Doggett wondered how long 

Byers would linger in his life. He picked up the soap and 

started washing Byers' back.

 

"You gonna be okay to go to dinner tonight?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers nodded. "Yeah. When are the reservations for?"

 

"Seven thirty," Doggett said. "Rainbow Grill."

 

"Rockefeller Plaza?" Byers sounded impressed.

 

"Yeah. It's got a great view of the city. You'll like it."

 

"Sounds interesting. How's the food?"

 

"Top notch stuff," Doggett said. "Turn around, let me get 

your front."

 

Byers turned and Doggett soaped Byers' chest and stomach. 

His lathered hands trailed gently over Byers' cock and 

balls, soft and sensual.

 

"Mmmmm," Byers growled. "Don't get me started again."

 

Doggett grinned. "And why not?"

 

Byers laughed. "Because you're gonna kill me with all this 

sex. I need to work up to it, not start out running a 

marathon like this."

 

"But what a great way to go," Doggett said, smiling. He 

handed Byers the soap. "Your turn. And don't lie to me. You 

love this."

 

Byers blushed, smiling. "Yeah, I do. I can't believe what 

you do to me." He washed Doggett's body, then slipped his 

arms around him. 

 

Doggett felt Byers' hands slide over his back, then slip 

down along the curve of his ass, coming to rest where his 

thighs met his hips. Doggett returned the embrace and 

kissed Byers, their wet bodies sliding together sensually. 

Despite his protests, Byers seemed starved for contact, 

almost insatiable in his desire to touch and be touched. It 

didn't fit with the image he'd had of Byers, the shy, 

guarded hacker in the suit, formal almost to the point of 

absurdity.

 

"You're so different like this," Doggett said. "Most of the 

time when I've seen you, you just seem distant, like you 

want everything at arm's length. Why are you like this now? 

It seems like you can't get enough of this."

 

Byers looked up at him. "I'm not really sure," he said. 

"It's hard for me to be like this. Sometimes I think I 

shouldn't be. A lot of times I just feel safer if I don't 

let people close. But..." Byers hesitated. He looked down, 

leaning into Doggett's chest. 

 

Doggett held him closer as they stood under the falling 

water. "But what?"

 

"But I need this. I hate doing without it."

 

"But you don't trust anybody enough to let them this 

close," Doggett said.

 

Byers nodded.

 

"And you don't trust me, but you let me get close to you 

anyway."

 

"It doesn't make any sense, does it?" Byers said.

 

"You're tryin' something that's really hard for you," 

Doggett said, rubbing Byers' back. "It takes time. I'm not 

gonna hurt you, Johnny. I got no reason to. I like you."

 

Byers nodded. "But I'm not really your type, either."

 

"No, but it doesn't matter. You're different, but in a good 

way. You're interesting. You're a decent guy. I'm enjoying 

being with you. And you're a hell of a hot fuck."

 

Byers chuckled. He looked up into Doggett's eyes. "You're 

pretty damned hot yourself." Byers' fingers trailed across 

Doggett's hips and ass, gentle and sensual.

 

"Come on, let's get out of the shower," Doggett said. He 

kissed Byers again and turned off the water. They stepped 

out onto the mat and dried each other off.

 

"What now?" Byers asked.

 

Doggett took his wrist and led him into the bedroom. "I 

think I just want to lie down for a while." He sat on the 

bed and pulled Byers down next to him. "Come lie with me. 

We can talk some more if you like, or we can just be 

quiet."

 

Byers nodded and they lay together on top of the covers, 

naked, holding each other. Byers rested his head on 

Doggett's shoulder, his body partly covering Doggett's. He 

closed his eyes, and Doggett lay there for a while, 

watching him, running his fingers idly through Byers' hair. 

It was soft and slightly damp. 

 

Doggett was still a little shaken by the thought that Byers 

could have been shot in the street earlier, and his 

temporary case of mistaken identity. He sighed quietly, 

trailing his fingers over Byers' shoulder blade. The man's 

soft, pale skin felt good under his fingertips. There was 

something very right about being here with him.

 

Doggett's shoulder was sore where Byers bit him. He rubbed 

the spot absently.

 

"Let me do that," Byers said. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend 

to bite." He kneaded Doggett's shoulder gently with one 

hand.

 

"It's okay," Doggett said. "It felt good. Made me come 

hard."

 

"I think I was a little occupied right then."

 

Doggett laughed. "Oh yeah. I could keep you occupied for a 

long time, Johnny." He rolled on top of Byers, arms wrapped 

around him, hands holding his shoulders. He leaned in and 

bit at Byers' neck.

 

"Uhhhh," Byers moaned. "You really *are* trying to kill me, 

aren't you?"

 

"It could take hours," Doggett said. "Days. Weeks, even."

 

They both laughed.

 

"We should give it a try," Doggett said, with a wink.

 

Byers looked at him. "You're a very bad man, trying to 

murder your obedient servant like that."

 

"You'll die with a smile on your face."

 

"I would, at that." Byers smiled and relaxed. "Thanks."

 

"For what?" Doggett asked. 

 

"For trying to understand. For being good to me." There was 

a lonely ache in Byers' voice.

 

Doggett brushed Byers' face with his hand. "Most people 

don't, I guess?"

 

"They find out what I do, how I live, and most of them 

treat me like I'm insane." Byers looked away, sadness in 

his eyes. "I bet Sergio will too, if he looks up a copy of 

the paper."

 

"I don't know, Johnny. It's possible, but I think he likes 

you well enough to give you the benefit of the doubt."

 

"Yeah, right. What the hell does he see in me, anyway?"

 

Doggett chuckled. "Aside from that sweet ass of yours, you 

mean?" He ran a hand over Byers' ass and squeezed gently. 

"Probably some of the same stuff I do. Intelligence, 

steadiness, passion, your willingness to take risks. And I 

know how he responds to shy guys; you hit all his buttons, 

I guarantee you that. There's lots of good things about 

you. You care about stuff, and it shows."

 

Byers blushed again, embarrassed.

 

"You're also awful hot when you blush," Doggett said with a 

grin.

 

"Right," Byers said, utterly unconvinced.

 

Doggett shook his head. "You need to learn how to take a 

compliment. Don't gimme that shit. Smile at me and say, 

'thank you, Sir.'"

 

Byers laughed and looked back up into Doggett's eyes. 

"Thank you, Sir." He still didn't sound convinced, but 

Doggett wasn't going to push it. Byers' small, shy smile 

made his heart beat faster.

 

Doggett suddenly realized why Byers effected him the way he 

did, why everything about this seemed so intense. The other 

men he'd been with over the years had been playing games in 

the most base sense. They were full of bluster, taking 

absurd pride in their careful pretenses of submission. What 

bravery they might have had was largely bravado and over-

done attitude, like the Marine at the club the night 

before. They were willing to take physical risks, but very 

few were willing to stretch themselves emotionally. They 

weren't willing to admit that they were ever truly afraid, 

much less discuss the things that frightened them. It 

seemed the only things they discussed were limits and 

scenes and what toys they wanted to use. Doggett had been 

playing surface games with shallow men for years; men who 

cared more for appearances and costumes and the perfect set 

of stripes on their backs than for genuine honesty and 

emotion.

 

Byers might be fearful and paranoid, but he was honest 

about it. He had a hard time with trust, but he understood 

that and was trying to get through it. The "trust" Doggett 

had gotten from the other men in his life had been a sham -

\- a trust that only went as far as the game did. Byers was 

striving for something far deeper, far outside the games of 

dominance and submission. Doggett saw that Byers wanted to 

give him the same kind of trust he gave the other Gunmen; a 

trust that meant he was willing to put his life in 

Doggett's hands, and to risk his own life for him. What 

Byers offered, hesitant and afraid, was both a treasure and 

a terrible burden. Once given and accepted, even if they 

never played together again, that trust could never be 

broken. Like Langly and Frohike, Doggett would be a friend 

closer than family.

 

The understanding hit like klieg lights on a moonless 

night, blinding. Doggett wondered if he was ready for a 

trust and a friendship like that, yet he wanted it, more 

than he could say. He hoped he'd be able to offer Byers 

that same gift. He wondered if he was sane. Was wanting 

something so deep from another man entirely rational? He 

needed time to think.

 

The sound of Byers' voice was in his ear, but what he'd 

said hadn't registered.

 

"Hmm?" Doggett said. "I'm sorry, I was thinking."

 

"I was wondering when you'd want to get ready for dinner."

 

Rolling over, Doggett looked at the clock and blinked. It 

was already six o'clock. "Damn, where did the time go? When 

did I get back here?"

 

"About two thirty," Byers said. "We spent a lot of time 

talking. And doing other things."

 

"I guess." He rolled onto Byers and held him close for a 

minute, then got up. "We should probably start getting 

ready now. I gotta pull my suit out, and then I need to 

make sure you're dressed right. I had some plans for the 

evening, if you're up to it."

 

Byers sat on the edge of the bed, curious. "Like what?"

 

Doggett reached into the bedside drawer and pulled out the 

leather cock and ball harness from the previous night. 

"Like this," he said. "I want you to wear this again."

 

Byers eyes widened, and he took a deep breath. "Oh, yes," 

he said quietly, his response a low moan. His shaft rose as 

Doggett watched.

 

"You really like that, don't you?" Doggett watched Byers' 

reaction carefully.

 

Byers nodded and swallowed. He licked his lips. "Yes," he 

whispered. His upper body was flushing, and his nipples 

rose. 

 

It took all Doggett's self control to keep from pinning 

Byers to the bed and fucking him again. "Come here," he 

ordered. His own rod was rising in response to Byers' 

arousal. It had to wait.

 

"Yes, Sir." Byers rose and stood before Doggett, his hands 

clasped behind his back, legs slightly spread.

 

"Good," Doggett said. "You're a very good boy, Johnny." He 

knelt before Byers and began to bind his sub into the 

harness.

 

"Thank you, Sir," Byers whispered, eyes half closed. His 

face was nearly glowing with delight as Doggett fastened 

and tightened the black straps around him. He was trembling 

slightly by the time Doggett finished.

 

Doggett took in Byers' arousal, his half closed eyes, the 

look on his face. "Perfect," he said. "You're such a slut 

for this. Stay there like that until I bring you your 

clothes."

 

"Yes, Sir," Byers answered.

 

"And bend your knees a little. I don't want you passing out 

on me." Doggett ran a hand over Byers' bound balls and up 

his stiff dick.

 

Byers grunted at the touch, shifting his weight slightly as 

he'd been told. "Yes, Sir."

 

Doggett pulled his suit from the closet and started 

dressing, his eyes on Byers. His own suit was a darker grey 

than the one Byers wore, and his shirt and tie were a deep, 

sapphire blue. In his imagination, he could already see 

Byers in the Armani, kneeling, hands bound behind his back. 

He could feel Byers' mouth on his rod, sucking him deep. 

The thought sent a flush of heat through him. The 

simplicity of the fantasy surprised him, but it had caught 

his imagination the first time he'd taken Byers, and hadn't 

let go. The fact that Byers loved sucking dick and did it 

extremely well only added to the image's appeal. It would 

keep him focused through dinner, and Doggett knew the 

anticipation would only build.

 

Doggett quickly finished dressing, then brought the suit 

and new clothes to Byers. He opened the box and took out 

the burgundy silk boxers, the new socks, the burgundy shirt 

and tie. He laid them on the bed and got Byers' new shoes 

from the closet where they'd been put yesterday. Taking the 

Armani from its bag, he laid that on the bed as well. The 

color matching was flawless.

 

"Get dressed," Doggett ordered Byers.

 

"Yes, Sir." Byers started slipping on the silk, sighing as 

it slid across his skin. The texture of the soft cloth 

glowed in the light. Doggett sat on the bed and watched, 

approving. 

 

As Byers finished up, he slipped the tie around his neck.

 

"Come here. I'll tie that."

 

Byers looked over at Doggett, the cloth in both hands. 

"Yes, Sir," he replied, and moved to stand before his 

Master.

 

"You may not be wearing a collar," Doggett said, looking 

Byers in the eyes, "but I can claim you just as well with 

this." He took the tie in his hands and slowly tied a full 

Windsor at Byers' throat. "You're mine, John. Tonight, you 

belong to me." Doggett's voice was commanding, seductive. 

He knew Byers wouldn't be able to resist his words, or the 

sound of his voice.

 

Byers shook as Doggett spoke, and Doggett could hear the 

slender man's heart hammering. His sub's blue eyes were 

dark with desire and a need to please.

 

"Your body belongs to me. I can give or withhold your 

pleasure as I see fit. You're mine to take as I will. I can 

fuck you until you scream, or I can leave you frustrated. 

You will not question me. Tonight, you exist for my 

pleasure until I release you from your bondage with my word 

and my kiss. Do you understand?" Doggett gently adjusted 

the finished knot at Byers' throat.

 

"Yes, Sir," Byers whispered, panting.

 

Doggett put his arms around Byers and kissed him, then 

looked him in the eyes once more. "John Byers, you are 

mine."

 

RAINBOW GRILL

30 ROCKEFELLER PLAZA

65TH FLOOR

 

"We'll have the Scampi."

 

Byers watched as Doggett ordered for them. He hadn't been 

asked what he wanted. Tonight, he hadn't expected to be 

asked. Shrimp Scampi sounded wonderful, and he had no 

intention of complaining. As far as Byers was concerned, 

life was just about perfect.

 

He sipped at the white wine his Master had ordered. It was 

exquisite, and he knew it had to be hideously expensive, 

like everything else in this place. Byers wondered how 

Doggett could afford this. He knew what Doggett's annual 

salary was, and this -- the suit, the club, the hotel, the 

food, the show -- wasn't the sort of thing he could do very 

often, if he could do it at all. The question would wait, 

though. It wasn't his place to ask. Not tonight; not here.

 

They had been seated near a window, and the view of the 

south end of Manhattan was incredible. The skyline was 

beautiful in the early evening light. Doggett looked 

magnificent in the dark suit and deep sapphire blue 

ensemble he wore. He knew that his own new suit looked just 

as good on him, and the feeling was deeply satisfying. The 

harness that was wrapped tight around his cock and balls 

was deliciously stimulating. Byers was happy to be in a 

place like this, as Doggett's companion. If he weren't so 

hungry, he'd be even happier to be back at the hotel, 

enjoying whatever erotic delights Doggett had planned for 

him.

 

"The food here's great, Johnny. You're in for a real 

treat," Doggett said, his face light and relaxed. He was 

smiling. Byers thought he looked particularly handsome that 

way. So often he'd only seen Doggett in the midst of a 

case, stressed or angry.

 

"The Shrimp Scampi sounds great, Sir." He took another sip 

of his wine. "The whole weekend has been incredible so far. 

How often do you do this?" Byers asked. He thought it might 

be a more subtle way to ask about what he really wanted to 

know.

 

"Once a year, maybe twice," Doggett said. "Usually I get a 

new suit for myself once a year when I come and do the 

weekend, but this year, I really wanted you to have it." 

Doggett's voice gentled and deepened. "You look incredible, 

Johnny. You stand taller when you're wearing that. You look 

like you're proud of yourself. It's a good thing to see."

 

"Thank you, Sir." Byers smiled, blushing, and lowered his 

eyes to the table as the salads and antipasti arrived. The 

waiter was fast and efficient, and Byers almost didn't 

notice his presence.

 

Doggett grinned at him. "I can't help thinking about what I 

want to do to you when we get back from dinner," he 

rumbled, quiet. Doggett's eyes gleamed with arousal, and 

Byers held his breath as he tried to will his cock not to 

leap in his lap. He didn't succeed.

 

Byers waited for Doggett to begin eating before he picked 

up his fork and began taking samples of the antipasti onto 

his own plate. After tasting his salad and a few of the 

delicious tidbits, he looked back up at Doggett. "What did 

you have in mind?" he asked, trying to put as much 

seduction as he could into the quiet question.

 

Doggett chuckled. "If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise 

anymore, would it?"

 

"Well, not technically," Byers said. "But I'm sure the 

sensations would still be surprising."

 

"Tell me, Johnny, did you ever have an urge to be a 

lawyer?" Doggett smiled, amused.

 

Byers and Doggett nibbled salad and antipasti and sipped at 

their wine as they talked. Byers laughed. "No. Just a 

bureaucrat." 

 

Doggett tilted his head and gave Byers a strange look. "Now 

there's one you don't hear every day."

 

"I got better," Byers said. "Besides," he continued, "I 

know you have two degrees in Public Administration. Tell me 

how that's not supposed to be bureaucratic. Uh, Sir." Byers 

grinned.

 

"Don't forget that I own you tonight," Doggett said, his 

voice low and dangerously sensual. "I may just decide to 

leave out some things that I know you'll like, you keep 

talkin' like that." There was a look of distinct and 

devastating intent on his face. 

 

Byers leaned back in his chair and swallowed nervously. 

"Yes, Sir," he said. His pulse raced, wishing Doggett's 

hands were on him, wanting the man's mouth on his. Even 

though he knew it was an idle threat at this point, he 

didn't want to take a chance on stepping over any lines, as 

he had at lunch on Friday.

 

Doggett smiled at Byers and they ate quietly, digging into 

the Scampi when it arrived.

 

Doggett's dominance satisfied something deep in Byers. The 

way Doggett had claimed him with his words and his kiss 

before they left for dinner stirred Byers in more than just 

a physical way. It was as though Doggett had known and 

understood what he needed to hear, what made him feel 

wanted and secure. Their time together pushed at the 

boundaries of Byers' paranoia. He wondered again what it 

would feel like to be able to trust Doggett as he trusted 

his two dearest friends. Would Doggett understand how deep 

and significant such an act would be? The man threw the 

word around as though it had little genuine meaning for 

him.

 

For Byers, trust was a matter of life and death. Trusting 

the wrong person could kill him. Opening himself that way 

was a far greater vulnerability than being naked, or giving 

himself sexually. It wasn't even so much that giving his 

trust meant he was willing to risk himself; he'd done so 

willingly for total strangers on more than one occasion. 

Trust, for Byers, was a matter of willingness to put his 

life and safety into the hands of another. It was a 

willingness to let the one he trusted see the truth of his 

pain and the suffering that had been part of his life for 

so long. Trust was a willingness to give the trusted one 

everything that he was, and still believe that he would not 

be deliberately hurt or abandoned.

 

Byers didn't even truly trust Mulder or Scully, though he'd 

known them for years. Their positions and the risks of 

their work meant that betrayal always stood on the edge of 

the shadows. Though Mulder was medically retired now, his 

insatiable curiosity and his obsessions kept him too close 

to the shadows for comfort. Mulder was, in fact, the last 

person Byers would want to call if he needed to be bailed 

out of jail; he had no guarantees that Mulder wouldn't be 

distracted by something five minutes later and leave him 

there for a week.

 

Byers could almost trust Jimmy now, knowing that the golden 

retriever of a man would never deliberately hurt a friend 

in any way. Doggett's work, though, was like Scully's -- 

how could he ever be sure that the conspirators wouldn't 

turn Doggett into something... not human?

 

Then again, how did he know that Frohike or Langly wouldn't 

come home some day as shells of themselves, harboring 

something evil? Would their eyes be awash with the black 

oil, or their bodies filled with something even more 

insidious and deadly? He shuddered.

 

Doggett's face flashed concern. "Johnny, are you all 

right?"

 

Byers nodded. "I'm just thinking, Sir. Like I said, I worry 

too much." He looked up and met Doggett's ice blue eyes. 

They carried a dark hint of worry. Did the man genuinely 

care about him? Was he more to Doggett than just a 

convenient, fuckable body? Considering what Doggett had 

said of his history with other men, it was hard to tell. 

Byers rarely saw honest concern in anyone's eyes when they 

looked at him. It had gotten to the point where he simply 

didn't expect to see it any more.

 

Doggett's hand slid across the table and he took Byers' 

hand. "Try to let it go for a while, okay? We can talk 

later, if you want." Doggett's grip was warm and solid. 

Byers squeezed and slid his hand away, unwilling to let 

anyone see something resembling public affection or a 

display of reassurance. The waitress at breakfast had 

convinced him that the closet was still the safest place.

 

"I know this afternoon was pretty stressful for both of 

us," Doggett continued. "This is what my life is like. I 

know yours really isn't that much different."

 

Byers nodded. "That's true. I generally try to avoid people 

with guns, though." He thought back to the times he'd been 

held at gunpoint, knowing it was likely to happen again. 

"It's not my idea of a good way to spend a vacation."

 

"Mine either," Doggett said.

 

Byers quieted again, eating more of his dinner and focusing 

on the flavors to take his mind off his anxieties. It was 

delicious, and he'd seen desserts on other tables, so he 

knew he wanted to try to leave room for something. 

Actually, if he didn't count the afternoon's little 

'adventure,' it had been a really good day. He was also 

very much looking forward to discovering what lay in 

Doggett's imagination for him when they returned to the 

hotel. They didn't have to be up the next morning, so he 

hoped whatever it was would be exquisitely lengthy and 

drawn out. He wanted very much to lose himself in the 

physical and set aside the worries that plagued him. 

 

Much as he lived in it, Byers hated being anxious and 

paranoid. He really wished he could just stop and stand 

back from it, like Doggett seemed to. Then again, Doggett 

was a skeptic. Byers knew that Doggett wouldn't believe 

some of the situations he'd been in over the years. Hell, 

he'd been there and seen things with his own eyes that he 

barely believed. It really wasn't surprising that people 

thought he was crazy. When he got right down to it, he was 

probably just as much of a nut job as Mulder. Maybe more 

so. At least Mulder used to get paid for chasing ghosts and 

aliens. Byers did it out of some twisted sense of duty. 

There were days when he wondered if he had some deeply 

buried death wish hiding in him somewhere. Considering some 

of the stupid things he'd done over the years, he'd 

actually have to build a case against the argument.

 

He chuckled humorlessly at his private ironies. Better to 

think about the leather around his cock and balls. Sitting 

back, he let himself feel it. He watched Doggett eating and 

thought about the man's broad, strong shoulders. He could 

picture Doggett nude, his defined muscles rippling as he 

moved. If he half-closed his eyes, he could almost feel 

Doggett's mouth on him, feel his Master's hands gliding up 

his sides, leather restraints on his wrists. He wanted it 

badly. The harness held him snugly as his shaft stirred, 

and he rumbled a quiet, decadent sigh.

 

Doggett looked up and smiled. "Thinking about tonight?" he 

asked, keeping his voice low.

 

Byers smiled back and nodded. "Oh, yeah."

 

"Good. So am I." The smile broadened into a sly grin. 

"You're gonna be so sore tomorrow," he said.

 

Byers shivered, delighted. "I can't wait."

 

The waiter arrived again. "Would you gentlemen like 

dessert?" he asked. "We have a wide variety of delights for 

your palate. May I tell you about our specialties this 

evening?"

 

Doggett turned his grin on the waiter. "No, that's okay. 

Tiramisu and coffee for both of us, please."

 

"Certainly, sir. An excellent choice." The young man took 

their plates and spirited them away.

 

Byers closed his eyes and sighed happily. "That sounds 

really good," he said.

 

"The best you can imagine," Doggett said.

 

"I can imagine things a hell of a lot better than tiramisu 

right now," Byers said, giving Doggett a lascivious look.

 

Doggett laughed. "Yeah, and you can wait for 'em, too. 

Tempting as it might be to spread you right here, I'd kinda 

like to be able to come back again."

 

"Of course, Sir," Byers said. He bit his lip at the image 

Doggett had created in his mind. More threats to bend him 

over a table. He wondered if Doggett had a thing for sex in 

dining rooms, and hoped they would explore the thought more 

thoroughly in private at some later date.

 

The tiramisu and coffee arrived, just as delicious as 

Doggett had promised. Byers was convinced he could get high 

on the intensity of the perfectly balanced flavors. There 

was a strange, erotic undertone to the meal, and he wasn't 

sure if it was its decadent perfection or his own mood, but 

it warmed him to the core. By the time he finished, he felt 

he could almost float out of the restaurant; happy tongue, 

happy dick, happy stomach. He anticipated his body being 

even happier when they got back to the hotel.

 

PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL

ROOM 1246

NIGHT

 

"Bring me the wrist restraints," Doggett said. His voice 

was rough and aggressive. 

 

"Yes, Sir." Byers shivered with anticipation as he took 

them from the bedside drawer. The padded black leather was 

soft and sensual in his hands.

 

Doggett looked at him with dark, hooded eyes, and Byers 

could feel his Master's gaze burning into him. He handed 

the restraints to Doggett.

 

"Turn around."

 

Byers turned, and Doggett cuffed his wrists together, then 

turned him back to look in his eyes once again. Byers 

tugged against the restraints, heart beating hard and fast 

with his increasing arousal. His anticipation had been 

growing since they'd left the restaurant to return to the 

hotel, and he could tell that Doggett was excited.

 

"You should see yourself, Johnny. You wouldn't believe how 

hot you look like this," Doggett said. He took Byers by one 

elbow and led him to the closet door, which was adorned 

with a full-length mirror. Byers let himself be turned to 

face the mirror.

 

Doggett stood behind him; taller, older, far more muscular. 

His Master's light blue eyes were dark with heat and lust, 

and his hands were on Byers' shoulders, forcing him to face 

himself. The contrast of Doggett's deep sapphire shirt and 

dark grey suit against Byers' lighter suit and burgundy 

shirt was a study in hue and contrast. 

 

Byers' eyes scanned his own face and body. He'd never seen 

himself aroused before, and it surprised him. His face was 

flushed, his expression soft and intense, lips slightly 

parted. The suit he wore revealed more of his body than the 

casual jeans and short sleeved shirt he'd worn earlier in 

the day, though he was wearing more, and covered much more 

completely. He realized in that moment that exposure had 

little to do with the amount of flesh one showed. Instead, 

it was the cut of the clothing, the way it lay on the 

body's curves and planes. Though he had never considered 

himself a handsome man, looking like this, dressed this 

way, he could almost understand what Doggett might see in 

him -- at least as a sexual object.

 

"Look at yourself," Doggett whispered. His hands slipped 

down Byers' arms from his shoulders, the followed the line 

of his waist to his hips. 

 

Byers watched as he felt Doggett's hands moving on him, the 

pace of his breath increasing. He could hear Doggett's 

breath quickening in his ear.

 

"Do you see what I see when I look at you?" Doggett asked. 

He kissed Byers behind one ear, and Byers shivered, a cold 

silver wire burning down his spine into his bound cock and 

balls. Doggett's hands slid up Byers' chest, touching him 

light but firm, sensual without a trace of tickle.

 

Their eyes met in the mirror, and Byers froze, holding his 

breath. Doggett pressed Byers back against his chest, and 

he could feel Doggett's pounding heart through their 

contact. His Master's hardness met his bound hands, hot and 

throbbing as Doggett's arms wrapped around him, and he 

gasped for air, panting hard.

 

"Yeah, Johnny. You want that, don't you?" Doggett's voice 

lowered to a dangerous growl that rumbled through Byers' 

body. He pressed his hips closer, letting Byers touch.

 

Byers caressed Doggett's shaft with his fingers, panting. 

"Yes, Sir." He watched in the mirror as Doggett's eyes 

narrowed.

 

Doggett's hands moved down Byers' chest, slowly unbuttoning 

his jacket. When Doggett's fingers reached his waist, they 

curved down further, around Byers' hot, hard cock. Byers 

whimpered at the teasing touch and tried to arch into his 

Master's hands.

 

"Don't move," Doggett whispered in his ear. "Just watch 

yourself in the mirror." The hiss of Doggett's breath in 

his ear sent a shudder down Byers' back. He watched, though 

instinct demanded he close his eyes and concentrate on the 

physical sensations.

 

With a slow, torturously sensual movement, Doggett lowered 

Byers' zipper. Byers watched in heated fascination, 

panting, as his Master's hand slid into his pants. He could 

feel Doggett's warm fingers meeting the bound flesh of his 

leather-strapped shaft and balls.

 

The sound Byers heard coming from his own throat was half 

purr, half baritone groan. Doggett slowly slid Byers' hard 

member out of his pants. The image of his swollen cock and 

balls buckled and clipped into the leather harness, pulsing 

as it stood high and dark from his fly, made Byers' knees 

weak. It was the kind of image he looked for on the net 

when he allowed himself time to indulge his private 

fantasies.

 

"You are so beautiful, Johnny, so fuckable." Doggett traced 

a finger along Byers' throat, just barely touching his 

skin, and Byers shuddered.

 

He watched Doggett's face near his own, his Master's 

darkened eyes burning into him. Byers could feel the 

pounding of his own heart and Doggett's as they stood, 

bodies touching. Sliding his bound hands along Doggett's 

pants, he found the zipper and tried to open it.

 

"No," Doggett snapped, quiet. "You only get what I give 

you, when I'm ready to give it to you. You don't take. If 

you want something you ask, and I make the decisions." He 

slapped Byers' cock.

 

"Aaah!" Byers jerked back into Doggett's body, reeling from 

the intertwined pain and pleasure shooting through his 

body. "Yes, Sir," he panted, "I'm sorry, Sir." Doggett knew 

he liked the sensation, and hadn't slapped him hard enough 

to cause more pain than he could handle. Byers felt himself 

getting harder as he steadied his balance. He whimpered 

with need and frustration. If he felt this hot and horny so 

early in the game, he was certain he was in for a night he 

would remember for a long time to come.

 

"If you want cock, you have to beg for it, Johnny." 

Doggett's voice was stern.

 

Byers' knees turned to water at the words and the sound of 

his Master's voice, and he slumped back into Doggett's 

arms. "Please, Sir," he whispered.

 

"Please Sir, what?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers was panting, eyes half closed, still leaning against 

Doggett's chest. "I want to touch you, Sir. I want your 

cock. Please, let me touch you."

 

Doggett slid a hand behind him, and he could hear the 

zipper being pulled down. "I'm not sure you want it enough. 

That wasn't very convincing."

 

He could feel his Master moving behind him, pulling his 

hard shaft out of his pants. He wanted to touch, but kept 

his control. Byers' eyes closed and he let his head roll 

back onto Doggett's shoulder.

 

"Please, Sir," he let his want into his voice, "I need it, 

Sir. I want to feel you. I want your cock in my hands. Let 

me touch you, Sir. Let me please you."

 

Doggett chuckled in Byers' ear. "That's a little more 

convincing, but it's not good enough yet." Byers felt the 

head of Doggett's cock run along the tips of his fingers, 

the edges of his palms. It was hot and stiff and the skin 

was velvet soft. His fingers twitched and he ached to take 

it in his hands and stroke it.

 

Byers let out a frustrated moan. "It's so hot, Sir. I love 

what you're doing. Please, Sir --" Byers' voice cracked, 

"please, I want it so much."

 

Doggett ran the tip of his cock across Byers' motionless 

palm, slow and soft, as he slid two fingers across Byers' 

lips.

 

"Ahhh..." Byers lips parted and the tip of his tongue met 

Doggett's fingertips. 

 

"That's sounding better, Johnny," Doggett said quietly. He 

slipped his fingers into Byers' mouth, and Byers licked 

them and began to suck. The slight salt of Doggett's skin 

tingled on Byers' tongue.

 

"Mmmmm..." Byers tilted his head down toward Doggett's 

hand, sucking the length of both fingers into his mouth.

 

Doggett's lips brushed Byers' left ear. "Look at yourself, 

Johnny. See how you look when you're sucking. Look at the 

expression on your face."

 

Heart racing, Byers struggled to open his eyes, then looked 

into the mirror. The raw need in his face shocked him, but 

he was too busy sliding his tongue along Doggett's fingers 

to react visibly.

 

Doggett slid his fingers from Byers' mouth.

 

"Ah --" Byers reached for them with his lips, but Doggett 

kept them moving. He watched as Doggett's hand slowly moved 

down his body, not touching him. His eyes widened as 

Doggett's fingers drew close to his cock. The wet 

fingertips met the head of his cock, spreading the growing 

drop of pre-come that had been gathering there, threatening 

to slide down his shaft. Byers groaned and bucked up 

against Doggett's fingers, but his Master pulled back, 

keeping only a feather soft touch at the throbbing, 

sensitive tip of his flesh.

 

Doggett traced tiny circles around the slit in the head of 

his shaft, and Byers wailed with frustration and pleasure. 

A hard pinch and Byers yelped. Doggett's hand moved away. 

Doggett touched the tips of his fingers with his tongue, 

tasting Byers' essence, and smiled.

 

"I know you want it," Doggett said. "You always want it. 

You're such a slut for my rod, Johnny. You want to touch 

it. You want to suck it. You want it up your ass. You make 

me so hot." Doggett sucked at Byers' neck, teeth and tongue 

moving roughly on him.

 

"Yes, Sir," Byers groaned. "I want it, I want all of it. 

Please, Sir..."

 

Doggett pulled his mouth away and put his hands on Byers' 

shoulders. He moved and turned Byers then shoved him to his 

knees. "I'll give you a little of what you want."

 

Byers found his nose nearly touching Doggett's hard, dark 

shaft. The scent of the man was hot, like burning musk. He 

took a deep breath, then looked up at his Master.

 

Doggett pulled a condom from his pocket, tore the packet 

open, and held it before Byers. "Put it on me."

 

Without a moment's hesitation, Byers took the proffered 

condom in his lips and began to position it on the tip of 

Doggett's thick rod. With lips and tongue, he slowly 

unrolled the condom, sliding it down the length of his 

Master's cock as Doggett hissed and moaned. Byers felt 

Doggett thrust forward, slow and strong, into his mouth as 

the condom unrolled under his tongue.

 

Once he was sure the condom was secure, Byers began sucking 

in earnest, licking and massaging his Master's hot length 

with lips and tongue. He moaned as Doggett thrust slowly 

into his mouth, taking him in deeper with each stroke.

 

As he caressed Doggett's cock with the length of his 

tongue, he noticed that he was positioned so that he could 

see what was happening in the mirror if he looked a bit off 

to one side. He wondered if Doggett had done this 

deliberately. Watching himself kneeling, wrists bound 

behind him, cock and balls bound and standing at attention 

before him, with Doggett's shaft in his mouth sent a bolt 

of incredible erotic fever through him. With a grunt, he 

opened himself and swallowed his Master's rod, his lips 

meeting Doggett's body.

 

Doggett groaned, loud and sustained, then took Byers' hair 

in his hands and started fucking his mouth deep and fast. 

"God, Johnny! Take it!" Doggett's balls slapped his chin, 

and he had to fight to cope with the swift, aggressive 

thrusts. After a few strokes, Doggett regained control of 

his body and slowed to a more comfortable speed and 

intensity. 

 

Byers closed his eyes and gave Doggett's thick erection his 

absolute attention.

 

"Oh, yeah..." Doggett said, panting. "Suck it, Johnny, take 

it deep." Doggett thrust a few more times, then pulled back 

and Byers caught his breath, gasping. "You're so good, you 

feel so good," Doggett said softly, then thrust his cock 

into Byers' mouth again, deep, sliding down his throat. 

Doggett muttered, "Love to fuck you like this." Byers 

growled from low in his chest, sending his Master into 

another spasm of fast, deep thrusts.

 

Byers thought that if Doggett didn't withdraw soon, he'd 

come, but that was fine with him. He loved the way a shaft 

would throb in his mouth and throat when the moment of 

orgasm arrived, loved the frantic, uncontrolled sounds of 

someone coming because he gave them pleasure. There had 

been times when he'd come himself when he sucked another 

man, just from the sounds and the oral sensations.

 

He wished he had his hands to work with, and struggled with 

the restraints around his wrists, pulling at the leather. 

The struggle itself felt good, and the sight of it seemed 

to set Doggett off even more, his pace and intensity 

picking up.

 

"Nnngh, yeah. Oh, god, Johnny, fight it. Love it, oh god, 

love watching you like this, suck me..." Doggett's fingers 

tightened in his hair, and he pulled Byers' face closer as 

Byers suckled his Master's cock. He was running short on 

breath now, and squeezed, sucking deep and hard, pushing 

Doggett toward the edge as hard as he could.

 

After two or three deep, staccato grunts, Doggett spoke 

again, nearly incoherent. "God, uhh, take it Johnny..." He 

panted hard, driving into Byers' mouth with short, sharp 

thrusts, then roared as he came.

 

Byers backed off quickly, getting his Master's cock out of 

his throat, though Doggett was pulling at his hair. He 

needed air. After a few deep gasps, filling his lungs again 

and again, Byers sucked gently at the tip of Doggett's 

dick, enjoying the way the man was shuddering.

 

Doggett sank to his knees in front of Byers and took his 

face in his hands. He was still breathing hard, but Byers 

could see his eyes were barely open. "Love how you do 

that," Doggett said, panting. "So beautiful." He took 

Byers' mouth with his own, kissing him deeply, and Byers 

slid his tongue along Doggett's, feeling the soft, ticklish 

caress of tender flesh.

 

With a moan, Byers leaned forward slightly, his body 

begging silently for contact. His bound cock was throbbing 

hard, the pressure of the leather straps becoming almost 

painful with an erotic intensity he loved. He wanted to rub 

himself against Doggett's body, their cocks meeting, hot 

and slick. He wanted Doggett's hands on him, exploring his 

body through the silk he wore under his suit. Byers wanted 

to be touched everywhere with an intensity that made him 

shake. He struggled with the wrist restraints that kept his 

hands behind him, even as he wanted and needed the feeling 

of helplessness they brought.

 

As he struggled, Doggett wrapped his arms around him, 

enveloping him in warmth and strength. Edging closer, 

Doggett pulled their bodies together then rested his chin 

on Byers' shoulder. They both knelt, motionless, relishing 

the solid contact. Byers rubbed his cheek against 

Doggett's.

 

"Please, Sir," he whispered, "I want more."

 

"Don't worry, Johnny," Doggett said quietly, "we're nowhere 

near done yet." He ran his hands down Byers' back, stopping 

to caress his waist, then sliding them down to hold the 

curves of Byers' ass in his palms. "You were so good. You 

gave me just what I wanted."

 

Byers bit his lip and whimpered.

 

"Patience," Doggett said. He looked into Byers' eyes, 

intense. "I know you want what I have planned for you. I'll 

give you things you need. I'll push you over the edge." 

 

Byers shook, his heart hammering. Everything that Doggett 

had done to him, done with him since their first time 

together, had been good. "What will you do, Sir?"

 

"Be patient. You'll see." Doggett stood, then slid his 

hands under Byers' arms and helped him stand. Byers' knees 

were slightly wobbly, but Doggett let him lean as they 

walked over to the bed. "Lie down and rest," Doggett said. 

"I've gotta do something. Just close your eyes and wait for 

me."

 

"Yes, Sir." Byers lay on the bed on his side and closed his 

eyes. He could hear Doggett moving around the room, getting 

things out, shuffling things around, opening and closing a 

door. There was the scratch of a match and a momentary 

scent of sulfur. He wondered what was happening, what kinds 

of things his Master had planned for him. Lying there not 

knowing what Doggett was doing filled him with 

anticipation.

 

There was silence for a few minutes, and Byers turned his 

head without opening his eyes, trying to locate Doggett in 

the room. He rolled slightly, turning his body for a more 

accurate idea of what was going on around him, but heard 

nothing. He hadn't been told not to move, simply to lie 

down, close his eyes, and wait for his Master. His cock was 

still hard, as the harness was tight enough to keep him 

from losing his erection, though some of the urgency of his 

arousal had faded. He felt good, but very curious.

 

The sound of Doggett's voice close to his ear startled him. 

"Now you get your reward for making me come like that." 

The bed shifted as Doggett leaned in and traced the tip of 

his tongue along the inner curve of Byers' ear.

 

Byers shivered and gasped as his Master backed away. He 

could feel Doggett untying his shoes, then slipping them 

off his feet. The socks went next, and Doggett's warm hands 

rubbed each foot for a moment. It was soothing and erotic 

at the same time. A shudder tingled its way up his body as 

Doggett's fingers traced the insides of his legs from 

ankles to the angles of his inner thighs, moving softly, 

almost tickling through the cloth. He writhed at the touch, 

groaning.

 

"Relax, Johnny," Doggett said. "Let yourself enjoy it." 

Byers felt Doggett's weight shift the mattress again, as 

the man positioned himself between Byers' legs. There was a 

ghost of presence near Byers' shaft, and then soft, warm 

breath surrounding it.

 

"Yes," Byers moaned quietly. He shifted his hips blindly 

toward the source of the breath, but Doggett's hands held 

him down by his hips.

 

"Relax," Doggett said again. "Don't move. Just let it 

happen."

 

When Doggett's soft warm lips kissed the tip of Byers' 

cock, he gasped, and Doggett held him down. A hot, wet 

tongue caressed his head, sliding gently along the slit. He 

moaned again, loudly, now hard as marble. The harness 

around him held him tight, amplifying every sensation. 

 

"I love the way you taste, Johnny."

 

Byers spoke softly, pleading. "Please, Sir, suck me." He 

licked his lips, dick aching with need, his balls tight in 

their restraints.

 

"No, Johnny. Just this for right now. I have other plans 

for you." 

 

He could feel Doggett move, then there was an arm behind 

his back, a hand supporting his head, and he was raised to 

a partial sitting position. A glass touched his lips and he 

sipped. The water was cool, with a tiny hint of lemon in 

it. Byers suddenly realized how dry his mouth had become, 

and drank eagerly. Held like this, the glass at his lips, 

he felt oddly out of place but cared for. There was an 

incredible feeling of gentleness to the situation, and the 

man who held him.

 

When the glass was taken from his lips, an odd image struck 

him. "Share water," he whispered to himself, remembering an 

old science fiction novel.

 

"Never thirst." Doggett's voice was soft, almost inaudible 

in his ear. Before Byers could say anything, Doggett's lips 

met his and they kissed. It was soft and passionate at the 

same time. When Doggett broke the kiss, Byers opened his 

eyes slightly and looked at his Master in the room's dim, 

flickering light.

 

"I never knew y --"

 

"Hush. Talk later. Keep your eyes closed, or would it be 

easier if I blindfolded you for a while?"

 

Byers closed his eyes. "Blindfold me, Sir," he said. It 

would remove the temptation for him to look until Doggett 

decided it was time for him to see again. Doggett eased him 

back onto the bed, got up, and returned a moment later. A 

softly lined blindfold that smelled of leather was placed 

over his eyes and fastened at the back of his head.

 

Doggett's hands were at his waist again, and he could feel 

his belt being unbuckled, his pants unbuttoned. There was a 

tug, and Byers raised his hips to let Doggett pull his 

pants down. The cloth slid down his legs and over his bare 

feet. He heard them hit the rug with a soft chuff. Warm 

hands trailed up his legs, teasing against the grain of the 

rough hair along the outside of his calves and thighs.

 

"Mmmmm..."

 

"How do you feel, Johnny?" Doggett's hands slid along his 

flesh, trailing to the sensitive insides of his thighs. A 

moment later, warm breath touched his skin, followed by 

Doggett's lips and tongue.

 

"Ohhhhhh," Byers panted, "oh, feels good, Sir." The weight 

of his body was on his arms and hands. He knew it would get 

uncomfortable if he stayed that way for long, but his 

Master's mouth on him was a sensual delight.

 

Doggett's mouth moved away from his legs, and Byers 

whimpered, until he felt a soft, wet tongue licking the tip 

of his cock again. He groaned softly and arched his hips 

upward.

 

"Little slut," Doggett said, his lips barely brushing where 

his tongue had just been. "You just can't wait, can you?"

 

Byers squirmed, raising a knee, and Doggett's hand slid 

down the back of his thigh to cup one cheek of his ass. 

"Love how this silk feels on you," Doggett growled, running 

his hand softly along the curve of Byers' ass through his 

boxers. Byers sighed at the caress, his body heated and 

aroused. Doggett's other hand slid down to join the first, 

lifting his hips gently then sliding up to his waist. With 

a swift, careful movement, Doggett pulled at the waistband 

of Byers' boxers and started sliding them off.

 

Byers cooperated, hoping Doggett would touch and kiss his 

bare skin as the soft, slippery fabric moved down his legs. 

Suddenly, without a word, Doggett flipped Byers over onto 

his stomach and finished pulling the boxers off.

 

"Uhh, yes!" Byers spread his legs. Doggett's hands were on 

his ass again, caressing his cheeks, running short, blunt 

fingernails over Byers' sensitive skin. It felt good. The 

next thing he knew, a pillow was being tucked under his 

hips, his bound shaft buried in the soft cool cushion. He 

gave a satisfied, horny sigh.

 

Byers heard a shuffling, then felt cool leather being 

buckled around his ankles. He gave a soft gasp and 

whimpered. Was Doggett going to spread him on the bed and 

tie him down? He hoped so.

 

Doggett's hands spread his legs further, stroking his inner 

thighs. Byers could hear Doggett's breathing speeding up. A 

few moments later, Doggett's fingers trailed along his 

tight balls, then tickled softly up the crack of his ass.

 

"Ahhhhh..." He was so hard, so ready for Doggett to fuck 

him. "Please, Sir," he moaned, "I want your cock in me."

 

Doggett chuckled. "We're nowhere near that yet, Johnny. 

There's so much more to come before I slide my rod into 

you. But I'm gonna love it when I'm ready to take you." 

Doggett's voice was low, almost a growl. He slid the tip of 

a finger over Byers' anus, pausing for a moment to push in 

gently without penetrating.

 

Byers whimpered and wriggled under Doggett. "Oh, god."

 

Before Byers knew what was happening, Doggett's mouth was 

on the curve of his ass, biting and sucking, and Byers 

moaned, deep and throaty. Doggett's fingers separated the 

mounds of muscle. He panted hard as Doggett's tongue slid 

along his skin and down between his cheeks to find the 

soft, sensitive skin of his opening.

 

Byers gasped. "Unh, unh, yeah, unh..." Doggett's tongue 

licked and prodded him, hot and wet and so soft. He tried 

to buck back into Doggett's mouth, but his Master had 

spread his legs too wide for him to get any leverage. He 

could feel Doggett's tongue dipping into him, penetrating 

him. His bound shaft was twitching hard. Though he was 

close to orgasm, the harness was so tight around his 

swollen dick now that he couldn't come. It was agonizing 

and blissful and he was falling hard into his most 

submissive space, losing himself to his Master's power.

 

Doggett raised his mouth. "You're beautiful, Johnny. I wish 

you could see yourself. You're so hot." He slid one finger 

into Byers' tight ass and Byers cried out, incoherent. 

Doggett worked his ass slowly with the finger, driving 

Byers wild with desire. 

 

"Unh, god, more," Byers begged.

 

Doggett's finger slid out of him. There wasn't time for 

Byers to anticipate Doggett's next move before a stinging 

slap landed on his ass.

 

"Ahhh!"

 

Another slap landed, then another, and Byers' hips jerked. 

He wanted it, wanted the pain and the pleasure. "Yes, unh, 

yes..." He was gasping, Doggett's hands leaving burning 

places on his ass. Doggett slid his finger back into Byers. 

 

Byers fought against the restraints around his wrists, 

struggling hard, shouting. He needed to move, needed to 

give in to the unbearable urge to pump his hips, to slam 

his hard shaft into something and fuck, to impale himself 

on his Master's rod and let the man take him until he 

screamed.

 

Suddenly, Doggett's full weight was on him, pressing down 

over his entire body, finger no longer in him. "Slow down, 

take it easy." The voice was quiet and soothing in his ear. 

The larger man's weight stilled him, and he gasped and 

panted, trying to catch his breath. "Hush, Johnny, hush."

 

Byers felt Doggett's kisses on his cheek and neck. 

 

"Lie still for me, okay?"

 

Byers nodded, no longer struggling, but trying to catch his 

breath. His ass stung from Doggett's blows.

 

"I'm gonna stand you up. I want you to stay where I put 

you, and don't move from that position until I move you 

again. Do you understand?"

 

Byers nodded again. "Yes, Sir," he said, still panting. His 

head was swimming, and he felt like his whole body was 

vibrating, barely under his control. His body ached 

exquisitely with desire and frustration.

 

Doggett slipped his arms around Byers' chest and slid him 

back along the bed, then pulled him to a kneeling position. 

"Okay, step back. Be careful."

 

Byers slid one foot to the floor, then the other, his legs 

shaking. Doggett's arms were still around him, and he 

leaned back into his Master's body with a relieved sigh. He 

could feel Doggett's hot, hard rod against his ass and 

rubbed against it.

 

"Wait for that, Johnny. Just hold still." Doggett's hands 

slipped to his throat, loosening Byers' tie. He leaned his 

head back against Doggett's shoulder, letting himself feel 

his Master's fingers moving. When the tie was unknotted, 

Doggett began unbuttoning Byers' shirt, teasing Byers' skin 

with his fingertips as he loosed each button.

 

Byers' head rolled to one side, his cheek meeting the warm 

skin of Doggett's neck and jaw. He kissed his Master 

softly. "Please, Sir, I need to be fucked."

 

"I'll give it to you when I'm ready," Doggett said. His 

hands moved over Byers' naked chest, stroking and caressing 

him. Byers sighed happily, his cock aching as it twitched 

in its harness. Doggett played with his nipples, rolling 

them in his fingers, then squeezing and pinching them hard, 

pulling them sharply.

 

"Ahhhhhhhh..." Byers arched back against Doggett's chest, 

panting again, his head thrashing back and forth on 

Doggett's shoulder. 

 

Doggett wrapped him tightly in his arms and pressed his 

hard rod against Byers' ass. "You want it bad, don't you?" 

he said. "You want me in you up to my balls."

 

Byers whimpered and nodded.

 

"You want me to fuck you until you can't feel anything but 

my hard rod slamming into you and my balls slapping on 

yours." Doggett was growling into his ear, thrusting up 

along the crack of Byers' ass.

 

"Yes Sir, oh god please, fuck me now, I want it so bad, 

want you, take me, fuck me..." Byers knew he was babbling, 

but didn't care. 

 

Doggett's hand slid down his body, brushing softly over his 

stomach then caressing Byers' straining, throbbing shaft. 

The tips of his fingers stroked Byers' balls and Byers 

moaned.

 

"Please..."

 

"Not yet."

 

Byers groaned, disappointed and desperate.

 

"I'm gonna separate the restraints on you to take the rest 

of your clothes off. Don't move."

 

Byers nodded, saying nothing, still leaning back against 

Doggett's body. He could feel his Master's hands at his 

wrists and heard a clip open and close. His hands hung free 

behind him, but he didn't move them. Doggett took his 

shoulders and eased him forward slightly, then slid the 

suit jacket and the silk shirt down his arms and off his 

body. Tossing them aside, he let Byers lean on him again.

 

"Come with me." Doggett led him slowly across the room by 

his shoulder. He was startled when his back gently touched 

the cold, flat expanse of a door. "Hands above your head," 

Doggett ordered.

 

Byers raised his hands. Doggett took first one wrist, then 

the other, and clipped them to something so they were 

spread out over his head. With a gentle nudge, Doggett 

tapped at Byers' ankles with one foot. "Spread 'em."

 

Again, Byers complied, and the leather restraints around 

his ankles were similarly secured. He was bound, spread 

eagle, to the door. He tugged against the restraints, but 

they were tight and there was no give. He couldn't move. 

His heart raced with fear and anticipation.

 

"It's not the cross," Doggett said, "but it'll do. Prepare 

yourself, Johnny. You're about to have a taste of what you 

want."

 

Byers didn't think his dick could get any harder, but 

Doggett's words sent a cold thrill through his body. "Yes," 

he groaned. He could picture the man he'd seen on the cross 

yesterday, then saw himself there. He could still see the 

floggers striking in his mind's eye, hear the slap of 

leather on flesh.

 

"Hit me, Sir," he whispered. "I want to feel it."

 

Doggett's fingers touched his chest gently, and Byers 

flinched, expecting a sharp blow. "Uh..."

 

"You're not ready yet," Doggett said. "You need to be 

prepared for it." His Master's hands roamed sensually 

across his body, sometimes tickling, sometimes scratching. 

Byers could feel Doggett's fingernails scrape across his 

nipples, and groaned in response. Doggett's lips closed 

over one fleshy peak, sucking, then biting.

 

"Unnnh." Byers relaxed as much as he could into the 

bondage. He could feel the pull along his arms and into his 

shoulders as his wrists took some of his weight. Doggett 

was licking and nibbling his way down Byers' stomach. He 

felt helpless and vulnerable, knowing that Doggett could do 

anything to him and he'd be unable to resist. It was 

terrifying, but he was filled with a familiar sensual rush, 

like the one he'd felt the first time Doggett had tied 

Byers to his own bed. He could feel himself starting to 

float, dizzy in his arousal, knowing the best was coming. 

Unable to stay silent, he made small, animal sounds of fear 

and pleasure.

 

Doggett's hands moved over him, touching Byers everywhere. 

The tips of Doggett's fingers trailed, almost tickling, 

along Byers' arms and legs, along his sides, up his chest 

to his throat, even over his face. Byers moaned and tried 

to move, but couldn't, as Doggett's nails scratched him all 

over his chest and sides.

 

Soon, hands and fingers were joined by a new sensation. 

"This is the flogger, Johnny. Feel the strands move over 

you." 

 

Byers panted and groaned as Doggett brushed them along his 

chest, slow and soft at first, then picking up speed and 

force a little at a time.

 

"You like how this feels, don't you?" Doggett asked. The 

strands began slapping at him gently, moving down his chest 

from just above his nipples.

 

"Yes Sir, please Sir, ahhhhhh..." He was slapped again, 

harder this time, along the center of his chest. "Oh, god." 

It was amazing. Byers groaned and begged for more as the 

blows got progressively harder. The flogger struck him 

solidly, thudding against his ribs, leaving a hot, stinging 

feeling behind. "Unh, yes, ahhh."

 

"You're gorgeous like this, Johnny. You should see 

yourself. You look so beautiful spread like this, your cock 

all hard, those stripes on your skin." Doggett's voice was 

low, filled with desire. He spaced the blows expertly, 

leaving every inch of Byers' chest stinging. "Makes me want 

to fuck you. Makes me want to take you right here, just 

like this."

 

"More, Sir, please..." Byers begged. He was lost in the 

sensations, craving the sting, and when Doggett switched 

the blows from his chest to his thighs, Byers moaned and 

grunted wordlessly. He wanted to feel the sting everywhere, 

wanted it along his back, over his ass, on the backs of his 

legs. "Please, Sir!" 

 

"God, I love to hear you beg, Johnny." Another blow fell on 

Byers' chest. Doggett was rumbling and growling as he 

spoke. "You're mine. I'm gonna fuck you so deep when I'm 

done with you." He struck Byers again. Byers thought that 

if the harness around his cock and balls was looser, he 

could come from this sensation. He was throbbing hard in 

the leather, and could feel his shaft jumping with each new 

blow.

 

"Yes," Byers gasped. "God, yes." When no new blow hit, 

Byers was confused. "Please, Sir, please, again..."

 

Doggett's voice was close when he replied. "We're gonna 

turn you around now, Johnny. You're not ready to take too 

much of this at once."

 

"Want more," Byers groaned.

 

Doggett's mouth took his, and they kissed hard. Doggett's 

hands skimmed over Byers' stinging skin, but his hands -- 

it was fur, Byers realized. His Master was soothing his 

burning skin with an unimaginable softness. He was 

trembling as he groaned into Doggett's kiss. His Master 

caressed him with the fur until Byers lost track of 

everything but the softness on his flesh. The contrast and 

combination of pain and pleasure left him disoriented. In 

this state, Byers realized he'd been cast over the edge and 

into the abyss and never even noticed. Though he could hear 

and feel everything, he was connected to his body by the 

thinnest of threads. He was in heaven.

 

Doggett moved one hand, fiddling with the restraints, then 

Byers' hands were free. He broke the kiss, holding Byers' 

hands together with one of his own. He released Byers' 

ankles and turned him to face the door.

 

"Spread, Johnny." Byers held his hands and feet apart, 

leaning his chest into the door. The cool wood was soothing 

on his heated skin. He felt Doggett bind him again and back 

away.

 

Again he felt Doggett's mouth and teeth on him, his 

Master's hands and the scratch of his nails. The flogger 

played across his back, soft at first, then harder as Byers 

moaned and cried out, begging for more. Doggett moved the 

sharp blows from his back to the flesh of his ass, down to 

his thighs, and back up again, giving Byers pain and 

pleasure in an intensity he had only fantasized before.

 

"Please, more," he begged, his whole body burning with the 

erotic rush. "Harder, Sir."

 

Several more blows fell, then Doggett stopped again. Byers 

thought his Master had finished, but he wanted more. 

"Please, Sir, please don't stop."

 

He felt Doggett's cool hand on his burning ass. "I'm not 

quite done yet. You can take a little more here than on 

your chest. I'm going to use the belt on you."

 

Byers slumped slightly, whimpering, "Yes, yes, yes..."

 

The next blow was harder and much more focused than the 

flogger's strands, leaving a sharp line of fire across 

Byers' ass.

 

"Ahhhhh!" Byers was so far gone now that he was flying. He 

never wanted to go back. His body begged to live in this 

state of burning ecstasy. Another blow flamed across his 

ass, then a third and a fourth. "God, unh, more, oh god, 

please..."

 

"It's enough," Doggett whispered in his ear.

 

"No, please, oh god don't stop," Byers begged.

 

"You've had enough," Doggett said again, and the softness 

of the fur returned, soothing the fire in his muscles. "I'm 

going to take you now."

 

"Yes," Byers whimpered.

 

When Doggett released him from his bondage, ankles first, 

then wrists, Byers slumped, unable to stand. Doggett caught 

him, then carried him to the bed. His Master lay him down 

carefully. Byers could feel him loosening the straps of the 

harness.

 

"No," Byers whined. "Not yet."

 

"If I loosen it, you'll be able to come when I fuck you. 

It'll be intense," Doggett said. "It'll be the best thing 

you ever felt. After that, I'll take it off you. Your body 

needs to rest soon."

 

"More," Byers pleaded.

 

Doggett rolled Byers onto his stomach. There were slicked 

fingers at Byers' ass, then the tip of Doggett's thick 

shaft touching him. "Do you want me to fuck you?"

 

Byers groaned. "God, please, Sir."

 

"I bet you'd love to have Sergio watching this," Doggett 

said, pushing slow and hard into Byers' body. "Watching me 

take you, watching me claim you as mine."

 

"Ahhhhh! Yes, yes!" Byers shouted, "god, Sir, yes!" The 

thought of Brentali watching Doggett do this to him -- 

tease him, beat him, fuck him -- cracked Byers open, and he 

came, screaming. 

 

Doggett's rod kept pumping into him, slowly and 

mercilessly. "You love it, don't you Johnny. You want to be 

my slut. You wish you could have this all the time, don't 

you?"

 

"Ahh, ahhh, oh god, yes Master, god..." Byers gasped, still 

coming, "fuck me Master, please!"

 

"Say it again," Doggett groaned, thrusting faster and 

harder. "Say it!"

 

"Please Master, god, fuck me Master!"

 

"Yes," Doggett shouted, slamming into Byers. "You're mine, 

Johnny, mine! Aaaaaah! Aaaah!" 

 

Byers could feel Doggett coming inside him, plowing into 

him hard and fast, almost violent in his passion. They 

thrashed on the bed together, crying out, Byers in ecstatic 

flight, Doggett pumping him intensely in the throes of his 

own orgasm.

 

Finally, exhausted, Byers went limp. He was gasping hard, 

as though he'd been running for hours. Doggett slowed, then 

lay quiet on Byers' back, his chest heaving.

 

Sweaty, sore, and aching, but sated, Byers drifted. He was 

aware of Doggett slipping slowly and carefully out of him, 

leaving his ass sore. He was too exhausted to move as 

Doggett rolled him to his back and removed the harness from 

his cock and balls, gently massaging them to ease them.

 

Doggett left for a few minutes, and when he returned, he 

slipped the blindfold from Byers' eyes. Byers sighed, then 

blinked, letting the dim light in. Doggett's face was close 

in front of his. His Master's eyes were soft and gentle. 

Leaning in, he kissed Byers.

 

"Your service is over for the night," he whispered. "You 

are your own man."

 

Byers nodded, still unable to speak from exhaustion.

 

Doggett cleaned him, then helped him into bed, pulling the 

covers over him. "You were incredible," Doggett whispered. 

He traced Byers' jaw with his fingertips, soft and slow. 

"You have no idea how good you were."

 

A faint smile curved Byers' lips as he closed his eyes. He 

was asleep before Doggett slid into bed with him.

 

~~end chapter 2 of 4~~


	3. Sunday

WK2: Armani Weekend

Chapter 3: Sunday

 

PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL

ROOM 1246

SUNDAY MORNING

 

Doggett ran a lazy hand down Byers' back. Most of the 

redness had gone, leaving only a stripe or two on Byers' 

ass where he'd used the belt on him. 

 

Even though it was morning, the heat of the New York summer 

had started up in earnest, and he'd forgotten to turn on 

the room's air conditioning the night before. The heat in 

the room as morning had broken meant that both of them had 

kicked the covers away before Doggett had awakened, and 

Byers was lying on the bed, nude and exposed. Just before 

Doggett had gone to bed last night, he'd called the hotel 

desk to have their suits picked up, cleaned and pressed, 

and delivered back to their room before noon.

 

Doggett knew that Byers would sleep late this morning, as 

he'd been exhausted after their play last night, and fallen 

asleep quickly. Byers would still be sore, but that 

soreness would probably be gone by the time they were back 

in D.C. He'd held back with the flogger and the belt, even 

though Byers had begged for more, and for harder blows. A 

massage and a hot shower would help him cope with the 

lingering ache, and Doggett had aspirin for him as well, if 

it was needed.

 

Byers stirred under Doggett's hand and made a soft grumbly 

noise, but didn't wake. His face was partly buried in his 

pillow, hair rumpled, muscles relaxed. Doggett considered 

waking him, but didn't. He was enjoying simply looking at 

him; his dark lashes a handsome contrast to his pale skin, 

those warm, soft lips slightly open, the little mole on 

Byers' cheek that gave his face character, the slow pulse 

beating at his throat. He let his hand trail up from Byers' 

shoulder to brush away the errant chestnut bangs from the 

man's face. Byers was usually so serious, so neat and 

orderly -- hair perfectly done, clothing just so -- seeing 

him relaxed and unguarded like this was a delight. Asleep, 

Byers' youthful appearance seemed even more so.

 

Doggett smiled to himself, pleased. He was glad he'd 

brought Byers along, and very pleased with how things had 

been going. Byers was good company, and the sex had been 

powerful and satisfying. The reality of Byers in that 

Armani, sucking him off, had been everything he'd hoped for 

and more. His sub's willingness and desire had left 

Doggett's knees weak. The man really was gorgeous dressed 

like that, in the heat of passion.

 

Byers' eyes fluttered open, then squeezed shut as he 

moaned.

 

"Still sore?" Doggett asked.

 

"Mmm-hmm," Byers replied.

 

"Where?"

 

"My ass," Byers mumbled, barely audible. "Shoulders and 

back."

 

"How's your chest?"

 

Byers didn't reply for a moment, obviously assessing 

himself. "Seems okay," he said eventually.

 

Doggett caressed his face, and Byers snuggled his cheek 

into Doggett's hand. 

 

"I brought stuff to give you a massage if you want. Got 

some oil to sooth the aches down some. It'll help, and then 

when we shower, you can wash the oil off."

 

Byers nodded.

 

"It's got a little scent to it, but nothing real strong," 

Doggett said. "Just a little light musk and a tiny bit of 

patchouli. No girly smells." He fished around in the 

bedside drawer until he found the small plastic squeeze 

bottle. Opening it, he held it near Byers' nose.

 

Byers took a small sniff. "Smells good," he said. He opened 

his eyes again, less strain showing around them. "Do you 

have aspirin? I hurt; my shoulders are stiff."

 

"Yeah, hang on a sec." Doggett rose from the bed and padded 

to the bathroom. He relieved himself and then brought a 

glass of water back to Byers, along with two aspirin. 

 

Byers was sitting up in the bed when he returned, and 

Doggett handed the glass and the pills to him. Byers took 

the pills and drank the entire glass of water. "Still 

thirsty," he muttered, obviously still half asleep.

 

"Go get some more water and take a piss, then come back and 

I'll do that massage for you. You'll need to stretch 

afterwards, while we're in the shower. It'll help you 

loosen up, "

 

Byers nodded and headed for the bathroom. Doggett watched 

as the man walked, noting his stiff movements. He'd 

probably need to work on Byers for about half an hour or so 

to get out most of the kinks and soothe his aches, and by 

that time, the aspirin would be kicking in. He'd make sure 

Byers carried more aspirin in his pocket for later in the 

day.

 

While Byers was in the bathroom, Doggett called down to 

room service to have breakfast sent up. He remembered what 

Byers had ordered the day before, and simply requested a 

repeat of yesterdays' breakfasts for both of them, sans 

Brentali's company and the surly waitress. The staff would 

have breakfast ready and delivered about the time he was 

done working on Byers' sore muscles.

 

Byers returned and collapsed face down on the bed with a 

groan. 

 

"You ready?" Doggett asked.

 

"Mmm," Byers mumbled, nodding.

 

Doggett squirted out some oil into his palm, then rubbed 

his hands together to warm it. Laying them on Byers' 

shoulders, he started spreading it smoothly over his sub's 

back, shoulders and sides, adding more oil as he needed it, 

so his hands would slide effortlessly over Byers' skin. 

Byers sighed and relaxed into the slowly deepening strokes, 

breathing deeply. 

 

The long movements of giving the massage felt good, and 

Doggett stretched himself into them, leaning his weight 

into Byers' hips and up his back. He enjoyed doing this, 

feeling the slick, oiled skin and muscles under his palms, 

his legs open to straddle Byers' body. Byers was making 

low, quiet, happy sounds, along with the occasional yip or 

hiss as Doggett struck a particularly sore spot. Working 

his way along, Doggett kneaded and twisted Byers' arms and 

shoulders, loosening them and working the heels of his 

hands or the balls of his thumbs into tight places, using 

his knuckles and the tips of his fingers to get into knots 

and ease them.

 

The pain in Byers' face faded as he melted into a puddle of 

warm, pliant flesh under Doggett's gentle, experienced 

hands. The aspirin was probably starting to work too, 

Doggett thought. Byers was nearly purring. It was a sound 

Doggett liked very much. It was, in fact, a sound that was 

stirring his groin, but he doubted that Byers would really 

be ready for that after what he'd taken last night. He'd 

pounded into Byers really hard toward the end, and knew 

that if he'd been fucked that hard, he wouldn't want 

anything even remotely dick-like near his ass for most of 

the next day. They'd have to settle for other forms of 

pleasure, though this wasn't exactly a hardship.

 

Doggett leaned down and kissed Byers' neck, and the slender 

man sighed and smiled. The oil on Byers' skin smelled great 

\-- rich and masculine, almost unbearably sensual. He was 

about to move to Byers' ear when there was a knock at the 

door. Byers startled.

 

"Huh?"

 

"It's okay," Doggett said, kissing his ear quickly. "It's 

just breakfast. Stay there, I'll bring it in." Doggett rose 

and tossed a robe on, then went to answer the door. Room 

service wheeled the cart in and left it in the living room, 

departing quickly and discreetly. 

 

Doggett pulled one of the lap trays from the cart and put 

their food on it, then carried everything into the bedroom. 

"Okay, sunshine," Doggett said, setting the tray down next 

to Byers, "roll your ass over. It's breakfast." Doggett sat 

on the bed with him and poured coffee as Byers stretched 

and rolled over onto his side.

 

"Looks good," Byers said. "Smells good."

 

"You about ready for full sentences yet?"

 

Byers shook his head, picking up his fork. "No. Massage 

good. Hungry. Coffee," he grunted, eyes alight.

 

Doggett laughed. "You must be feelin' better."

 

"Yeah. The massage really helped, and I think the aspirin 

kicked in too, because I'm not nearly as stiff and achy as 

I was when I first woke up." Byers got up on one elbow and 

took his coffee, sipping it, then sighing. "Ahhh. Feel the 

power of the caffeine." He smiled.

 

"You look like you feel better."

 

Byers nodded. "Where did you learn to do that? The massage, 

I mean."

 

Doggett shrugged, taking a couple of bites of his eggs. "A 

guy I was seeing for a while. Was a medic, then studied 

massage when he got outta the service. Said Somalia messed 

with his head so much that he just really needed to do 

something that didn't hurt people."

 

"I think I could understand that," Byers said. "You do it 

well."

 

"Turned out to be a real useful skill. I'm gonna teach you 

how to do it too, that way you can do it for me." He looked 

at Byers, wondering what his response would be.

 

Byers looked up at Doggett and smiled, a pleased expression 

on his face. "That sounds like a great idea."

 

Doggett grinned back at him. "Of course it is." He 

chuckled. "We'll need to find somebody for me to 

demonstrate on, though, so you can see what I'm doing."

 

Byers smirked. "I doubt that'll be too hard. I suspect 

Ringo wouldn't mind being a guinea pig."

 

"Ringo?" Doggett was confused.

 

"Oh, sorry. Langly. He goes by Ringo usually. He's never 

much cared for being called Richard." Byers sipped his 

coffee again. "Then again, I think he'll be really 

surprised when I tell him who's going to be teaching me. Of 

course, he'll probably decide he should learn it so he can 

use it on Skinner."

 

Doggett nodded. "Wouldn't surprise me. Those two have gotta 

be the oddest couple I've ever laid eyes on."

 

"Isn't that the truth." Byers sighed. "I think Mel and I 

both about passed out when we found out about it. Frohike 

hassled him mercilessly for weeks -- Lord Manhammer and the 

Great Bear." He chuckled and shook his head.

 

"Lord Manhammer? What kinda stupid crap of a name is that?"

 

Byers started laughing. "It's his D&D character, believe it 

or not. He's been playing the same damned character in the 

same game with most of the same gaming buddies since before 

I met him. I think last time I heard, they'd become some 

deific pantheon and were out trying to solve the problem of 

the ultimate elimination of evil or something."

 

Doggett couldn't help but laugh as well. "Jesus, Langly as 

some kinda god. That is so wrong. Doesn't that beat all."

 

"All but Skinner," Byers said, a wry grin on his face. 

"Ringo says that Walter can be really rough on him 

sometimes, but they both seem to like it." A moment of 

something that might have been regret ghosted over Byers' 

face, but it was gone so fast that Doggett wasn't sure he'd 

even seen it. "Skinner's all about being the boss."

 

"Tell me about it," Doggett grumbled. "He's been on my ass 

lately about being more careful with this whole 

supersoldier investigation. I'm surprised he hasn't asked 

me to drop it entirely."

 

"What's been happening with that lately?"

 

"Last week, me and Monica found some really weird assed 

evidence." Doggett sighed and shook his head. "Looked 

like... jeez, like some kinda metal vertebra. We hauled it 

in for safekeeping, and were gonna have Scully look at it 

the next morning, but it was gone. No evidence of a B and 

E, no prints, no nothing. It's like the damned thing never 

existed."

 

"You should probably get used to that sort of thing," Byers 

said, looking troubled. "Mulder and Scully's evidence was 

constantly disappearing into the system or being stolen or 

destroyed. God only knows what happened to most of it. And 

then there was the office fire. The guys and I spent months 

working to recover fragments of the files, doing our best 

to piece things together from what was left in the file 

cabinets, and the stuff we'd collected in helping them out 

over the years. It was a tremendous loss, and a devastating 

blow to their work." He nibbled at his breakfast.

 

Byers paused, then looked into Doggett's eyes. "I know that 

you don't believe a lot of what they found, but I can tell 

you that the danger surrounding the Files is very real. 

This isn't like anything you've ever done before, Jack." 

His voice quieted. "If you let them get too close, they'll 

try to kill you. I mean it." He reached out and took 

Doggett's hand. "No matter how paranoid you are, you're not 

paranoid enough. Listen to Skinner. He won't talk to Langly 

about it, but Ringo's sure Skinner knows more than he's 

ever been willing to let on. Please, be careful."

 

Doggett squeezed Byers' hand and let it go. The man was 

obviously serious, and very troubled about the whole thing.

 

"I'll be careful. I always am."

 

Byers sighed, looking doubtful, but nodded. He turned his 

attention back to his Eggs Benedict and the slice of bacon 

that he'd snagged from Doggett's plate.

 

"That's my food you're messin' with."

 

"You snooze, you lose."

 

Doggett snorted. "I think you got an attitude problem, 

boy."

 

"I think I belong to myself right now," Byers said with an 

evil grin, "and I'm having a craving for another slice of 

bacon. You weren't eating it, so I figured it was my duty 

to keep my strength up after what you did to me last 

night." He chuckled.

 

Doggett mussed Byers' already rumpled hair with one hand 

and laughed. "You have a point. Speaking of which, how are 

you feeling? Not your body; I know how that's doing. I mean 

inside."

 

Byers looked up again, thoughtful. Shifting his weight, he 

sat. "I'm fine, actually. It was really different from what 

happened Friday night. Last night was a lot more like what 

I've done before. I mean, it's never been quite like that, 

and I've certainly never done anything that intense, but I 

knew enough about what we were doing that it was 

comfortable for me. I could cope with it. Though I'm glad 

you weren't as hard on me as I asked."

 

Doggett nodded. "You don't have enough experience to know 

your own limits yet. It takes a while, and I don't want to 

hurt you while you're learning. It would be really 

irresponsible to push you too far. A good Dom always takes 

care of his sub, Johnny." Doggett laid a hand gently on 

Byers' shoulder. "I want you to know that, to be sure of 

it, no matter where you go or who you end up with. Never 

let a Dom hurt you or force you to do anything you don't 

actually want to do, or that you haven't negotiated 

beforehand. If it does happen, get out the second you can. 

Walk away from the guy -- run if you have to -- and don't 

go back unless you got somebody who can mediate. If you 

ever have a bad experience, I promise that you can always 

talk to me or Sergio. We'll help you, whatever it is, 

okay?"

 

Byers laid a hand on top of Doggett's, nodding. "Thanks," 

he said softly. "That means a lot."

 

"I don't want to see you get hurt," Doggett said, "not by 

anybody. Especially not by me."

 

Byers shifted closer, sliding an arm around Doggett's 

waist, and Doggett pulled him close and held him. Byers 

turned his face to him and they kissed. It was a savory 

kiss, tasting of bacon and coffee and eggs. Rather than 

arousing Doggett, the kiss left him feeling a warm 

tenderness for the man. Byers was no fool, but sometimes 

there seemed to be an innocence about him that belied his 

years and experience. 

 

Doggett worried that some unscrupulous asshole would take 

advantage of Byers' desire to please someone, to find 

acceptance from someone he could respect and serve. Despite 

Byers' paranoia, he could see those desires burning in him. 

He thought that those wants and needs might bypass Byers' 

reason and his self-protective instincts, and land the shy, 

quiet man in serious trouble if he didn't learn how to rein 

them in. 

 

This weekend Byers had done -- had let Doggett do -- things 

that surprised him; things he wouldn't have expected from a 

man whose paranoia was one of his defining characteristics. 

Perhaps in wanting so much to be able to trust, Byers was 

forgetting himself. Doggett wondered if it would all be 

over Monday, when they went back to their homes and their 

daily habits. Was it just a fluke of circumstance?

 

Doggett released Byers, then moved the remains of breakfast 

off the bed. He lay on his side and patted the bed in front 

of him. "C'mere," he said.

 

Byers slid close and lay beside him, sliding a hand from 

Doggett's shoulder to his wrist. "What would you like?" he 

asked.

 

"Come spoon up with me," Doggett said, raising his arm so 

that Byers could curl up against him. They shuffled for a 

moment, snuggling close together, and Doggett wrapped his 

arm around Byers' thin waist, angling up until the palm of 

his hand lay cupped over Byers' heart. He sighed, 

tightening his grip on his companion.

 

"Feels good," Byers whispered.

 

"Mmmhmm." Doggett breathed in the warm scent of the massage 

oil on Byers' skin. He could feel Byers' slow, steady 

heartbeat in his palm. The difference in their size was 

just enough that Byers fit perfectly against the curve of 

his body. He didn't think he'd had such a pleasant Sunday 

morning in years. There was no rush, nowhere Doggett had to 

be, nothing he had to do. He could just lie there, holding 

Byers, savoring the physical contact and the pleasure of 

being with him. They could shower later, maybe go for a 

walk in the park again, or perhaps Byers would have 

something in mind he'd like to do. For now, all Doggett 

wanted was this. He took a deep breath and kissed the back 

of Byers' head, smiling.

 

"You make me feel good, Jack," Byers said quietly.

 

"I'm glad," Doggett told him. "You deserve that."

 

NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY

5TH AVENUE & 42ND STREET

MID-DAY

 

"What's so great about a library?" Doggett asked as they 

passed between the stone lions and climbed the stairs to 

the library's doors.

 

Byers looked at him, an eyebrow raised. He was dressed in 

jeans again, and a brick red shirt. "This is only one of 

the most magnificent public libraries in the world, Jack. 

The architecture is amazing late 19th-early 20th century 

Beaux Arts, and this is the epicenter of literary history 

in the United States. So many famous authors worked in the 

writing rooms here you'd think it was a university."

 

"But it's a library, Johnny. It's a bunch of books. It 

could be anywhere and it'd still be a bunch of books."

 

Byers snorted. "And The Cloisters is just a bunch of old 

stuff."

 

Doggett rolled his eyes. "Okay, so you got me there. But I 

know you and the guys can get into the Library of Congress 

when you need to, so what's the big deal about this?"

 

Byers shook his head sadly. "It's about the history here." 

He opened the door and stepped in, followed by Doggett. 

Byers took a deep breath. "Smell that?"

 

"Smells like books and the great unwashed."

 

"Precisely. That's the smell of history, Jack. Well, except 

maybe for the great unwashed part." Byers smiled broadly. 

"Those books represent a massive collection of knowledge, 

the passage of time, and the creation and fostering of one 

of the world's most impressive modern literary traditions. 

Think of the people who have passed through those doors. 

Think about the collections of letters and papers of 

hundreds of American writers. Think about all the secrets 

that are hidden here, just waiting to be discovered." It 

excited him, made his heart beat faster, thinking of all 

the famous, infamous, and talented men and women who had 

passed through those portals before him.

 

Doggett looked at Byers. "If I was gonna see a library, I'd 

want to see the one at Alexandria, before Caesar's men 

burned it for campfires when they trashed the city."

 

Byers nodded. "That's always been a wild fantasy of mine. 

If only time travel was feasible. Well, without horrible 

consequences anyway." He thought of the case Mulder and 

Scully worked on involving a scientist who had traveled 

back in time to murder himself. Bizarre.

 

"You've been watchin' too many Back to the Future 

marathons, Johnny."

 

Byers chuckled. "Yeah. Stepping on a bug and causing the 

universe to shift on its axis isn't really my idea of the 

best way to travel."

 

"Why here though? There are so many things to see in the 

City. Lots of bigger, more impressive stuff, really."

 

"I'm not so sure about that. Don't you want to see 

Jefferson's manuscript of the Declaration of Independence? 

The original Gutenberg Bible? What about the Reading Room?" 

Byers tilted his head, walking toward a stairway.

 

Doggett shrugged. "Haven't been anywhere near the place 

since before it was renovated in '95. They even had the 

lions wearin' hard hats. It was a mess before that. I mean, 

yeah, it must have been a nice room way back when, but 

now?"

 

"Everything I've seen suggests that the restoration is 

really impressive. Mark Twain was here, Jack, and the beat 

poets and Barbara Tuchman and F. Scott Fitzgerald and Dylan 

Thomas and... well, pretty much anybody who's anybody in 

literature that's been in New York has been here at one 

point or another." Byers wasn't sure why this sort of thing 

didn't seem to excite Doggett the way it excited him.

 

Doggett gave him a small smile. "I guess the literary life 

never really did much for me. I read a lot more when I was 

a kid than I do now. These days, I barely have time to keep 

up with what I need to know for work, much less spend time 

reading because I like to." He kept pace with Byers on the 

stairs. "I wish I could. I miss it, you know? Reading 

things for fun or just to make me think."

 

"I don't think I could survive without it," Byers said. "If 

the only things I ever read were related to my work, I'd 

curl up into myself and never stick my face out the door. 

But if you stop and think about it, everything is related 

to the work I do. There are clues everywhere, and when the 

guys and I are researching our stories, sometimes we have 

to look in the most unbelievable directions. I need to know 

a little about as many different things as I can to make 

sense of what we find. One story we did about six years 

back involved a scientist's stolen research that coded DNA 

sequences for a newly discovered psychoactive substance in 

musical compositions to keep them concealed. I couldn't 

believe that music theory ended up being useful for our 

work, but in that case it was worth more than all of our 

knowledge of cryptanalysis and cryptography combined. Once 

we had it broken down, it was elegant; an exquisite example 

of cross-disciplinary work on the scientist's part." Byers 

chuckled. "The music wasn't bad either, though Langly still 

says he prefers the Ramones."

 

Doggett looked at Byers, surprise in his eyes. He shook his 

head. "You amaze me," he said. "Music theory and 

biochemistry?"

 

"I like knowing things," Byers said. "I want to follow 

knowledge like a sinking star. It's about the only thing I 

have going for me."

 

"Will you give that a break?" Doggett said, annoyed. 

"You're always saying shit like that about yourself. You've 

got no goddamn sense of how different you really are, do 

you? Quoting Tennyson like everybody should know that poem? 

I can't believe half the stuff you and the guys manage to 

come up with. You're all a bunch of geniuses -- well, 

except that Bond guy you picked up a few months ago -- and 

the only reason other people don't notice is because you're 

always talking about this conspiracy stuff, like mandroids 

and Teletubbies and implanted microchips in people's 

brains. If you were anywhere other than publishing that 

paper, Johnny, you'd be golden."

 

Byers sighed. It was hard for him to hear things like that. 

He'd never thought of himself as anything special; he was 

just a man who wanted to do the right thing. Byers knew he 

was intelligent, but he didn't think he came anywhere near 

genius. Langly, maybe, when he was hacking or coding, or 

Frohike when he cobbled those inventions of his out of 

spare parts, but not himself. All Byers felt he was really 

good at was knowing multi-syllabic words and connecting the 

dots between different bits of information. "I doubt that," 

he said.

 

Doggett shook his head. "There you go again. What did I 

tell you about needing to learn how to take a compliment?"

 

Byers looked over at Doggett, coming to rest on the third 

floor landing. He snorted. "Thank you, Sir."

 

"You're still a smart ass, and you still don't believe me."

 

"How am I supposed to believe you when you're saying things 

that outrageous?"

 

Doggett sighed and shook his head, continuing up the 

stairs. "Maybe one of these days it'll sink in. C'mon, 

let's go look at this stuff you wanted to see."

 

As they were making their way up the fifth floor steps, 

Byers spotted a familiar face. He cringed and tried to hide 

behind Doggett as they walked, hoping not to be noticed.

 

"Hey, Munch!" Doggett said.

 

Detective John Munch turned to look, squinted, shook his 

head and waited for the two men to get to the fifth floor 

landing. "Hey Doggett, what the hell are you doin' with 

this loser?"

 

Doggett looked over at Byers with an arched eyebrow, then 

back at Munch. "Research."

 

Byers shifted uncomfortably, knowing that attempting to 

hide behind Doggett was only going to look weird at this 

point. "You two... uh... know each other?"

 

Doggett looked at him. "I was about to ask you the same 

thing."

 

Munch smirked. "I arrested him once. And why aren't you 

wearin' that aluminum foil hat, Byers?"

 

Byers glowered at Munch, embarrassed. He could feel himself 

blush. 

 

Doggett's eyes widened. "Aluminum foil hat?"

 

"Keeps out the government's mind control rays," Munch said 

with a shrug. The detective was grinning and Byers was 

convinced it was at his expense. Munch turned to Doggett. 

"So how's the basement at the Hoover? And that Mulder guy?"

 

"Mulder's retired now," Doggett said. "I'm doin' okay 

though, thanks."

 

"Mulder still seein' little green men?"

 

"Grey," Byers grumbled.

 

"Yeah, well, whatever he's seein' I just hope he's keeping 

his clothes on," Munch said. 

 

Doggett's eyebrows climbed to his hairline. "God, I hope 

so." He looked over at Byers with a 'this I've got to hear' 

expression on his face.

 

Byers tapped at Doggett's elbow. "Agent Doggett, we really 

have to get back to work..."

 

Munch shook his head. "So what are you guys researching 

here?"

 

Doggett blinked and looked at Byers, then back at Munch. 

"Uh... genetic mutations."

 

"Wouldn't the sciences library be more useful for that?" 

Munch asked.

 

Byers shuffled and said, "Actually we're dealing with 

ethical issues in this case."

 

Munch snorted and gave Byers a sidelong glance. "A guy who 

breaks into warehouses is worried about ethics?"

 

Byers glared at Munch, irritated and showing it. "We broke 

into that warehouse because what was happening in there was 

unethical."

 

"Yeah," Munch said, chuckling. "And extraterrestrial."

 

Doggett looked confused but put a hand on Byers' arm. 

"Easy, Byers."

 

Munch smiled. "Nah, it's okay. You and your pals stayin' 

out of trouble, Byers?"

 

"Why would you care?" Byers said. He crossed his arms in 

front of him.

 

"'Cuz I've been subscribed to your rag for years now." 

Munch winked.

 

Byers sputtered. "What?" He shook his head. "Your name's 

not on our subscriber list."

 

Munch laughed. "You think I'm stupid enough to put my real 

name on your subscriber list? I'm listed as Richard Belzer. 

You guys even printed one of my articles a few years back 

about the Gulf Breeze sightings."

 

"Belzer?" Byers was stunned. That was, in fact, one of the 

names on their list, and they had published just such an 

article by that reader. "But I thought you --"

 

"Turned out you guys aren't nearly the nutcases I used to 

think you were," Munch said. "You've published some good 

stuff since '89." He offered a hand to Byers.

 

Speechless, Byers took it. He gaped at Munch.

 

"I really gotta be goin'; lunch break's over and I gotta 

get back to the office. Nice to see you again, Doggett." 

Munch shook Doggett's hand, then looked back to Byers. "You 

and the guys keep uncoverin' the conspiracies, Byers. But 

that new guy? Bond? What a flake." Munch grinned and headed 

off down the stairs.

 

Doggett turned to Byers. "What the hell was that all about? 

Aluminum foil hats? Naked Mulder? When did you meet Munch, 

Johnny?"

 

Byers stood watching Munch's back disappear around the 

corner of the staircase, his mouth open. 

 

"Johnny?"

 

Byers shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it," he 

said quietly, burying his face in one hand. "I just really 

don't want to talk about it. Not here, not now." He moaned. 

"God, he's one of our subscribers."

 

Doggett laid a hand on Byers' shoulder. "You gonna be 

okay?" There was concern in his voice.

 

Byers sighed and looked up, seeing a worried and deeply 

confused expression on Doggett's face. "Yeah, yeah. I'm 

fine. It was just... something of a shock, that's all. That 

was not the best day of my life."

 

"Munch arrested you?"

 

Byers squeezed his eyes shut, then took a deep breath and 

looked calmly up at Doggett. He nodded. "I'll tell you 

about it later, all right? Let's just go up to the reading 

room. I really need to sit down for a few minutes."

 

Byers felt Doggett's hand slide to the small of his back as 

they climbed the two remaining flights of stairs up to the 

huge reading room. The touch was comforting and reassuring 

after his rather distressing run-in with the past. So much 

for any desire to time travel, he thought. The last thing 

he ever wanted to do was end up back in that warehouse with 

a gun at his head. The thought left him panicked and 

sweaty. By the time they got to the reading room, Byers had 

his panic under control, but really needed to sit.

 

"You're lookin' really pale, Johnny. Are you sure you're 

all right?" Doggett sat next to him and took one of his 

hands. Byers let their joined hands rest on his thigh.

 

"I really don't want to talk about this in public," Byers 

said. "It was one of the worst experiences of my life."

 

"I'm sorry."

 

Byers turned his eyes to the table before him. "You had no 

way of knowing. I didn't know you knew him. If I'd had any 

idea he would be here --"

 

"He's really not that bad a guy," Doggett said.

 

Byers looked up at him. "He wasn't the problem, Jack. He 

was just doing his job. It was the rest of it that was 

awful. He just reminds me of the whole mess. Please, don't 

make me talk about this right now."

 

Doggett nodded. "Sorry, Johnny. Are you sure you still want 

to be here right now? We could come back another time if 

you like."

 

Byers shook his head. "We won't have time before we have to 

head home."

 

Doggett squeezed his hand. "I didn't mean it had to be this 

weekend. Maybe we can come back together another time."

 

Byers sighed and sat back, taking in the huge room around 

him. It was richly, even opulently furnished. Along the 

edges of the room were desks with computer terminals for 

research and writing. The ceiling had an incredibly 

realistic painting of a cloudy sky framed by wood and 

molding in its center. He lay his head on the back of his 

chair for a few minutes and just stared at it, taking it 

in.

 

Come back another time? It seemed like Doggett was 

interested in continuing their relationship, whatever that 

meant, after they got back home. He thought about what that 

might be like, having someone to be with, someone to turn 

to now and then when he really needed it.

 

Finally, Byers looked back down at Doggett, who had been 

sitting patiently, watching him. "No, it's okay. The 

memories are always with me, Jack. I can't just dump them 

in the stairwell if we leave the library. And I really want 

to see the manuscript draft of the Declaration."

 

Doggett nodded. "Okay. I think it's over there." Doggett 

pointed off to one side of the room. The two stood, and 

Doggett led the way. They eventually found themselves 

standing before a climate-controlled cabinet lidded with 

glass, kept behind a rope barrier. "Here it is," Doggett 

said.

 

Byers looked down at the ancient, stained document. He felt 

a sense of reverence welling up in him, knowing that 

Jefferson had written it. The hands of a great man had made 

the document in a time of incredible social upheaval, under 

circumstances he could barely imagine. Byers saw it as a 

testimony to what was best and brightest in the human 

species, to the spirit of men who risked everything against 

a massive power far greater than their own to gain freedom 

from tyranny. He hoped that, in some small way, he and his 

friends were contributing to that ongoing struggle. He 

stood and stared at the draft for a very long time.

 

Eventually, he felt a touch on his shoulder and startled. 

Turning, he saw it was Doggett.

 

"You been here for about half an hour, Johnny. Is there 

anything else you want to see or do here, or can we go get 

some lunch?" There was a slight touch of impatience in 

Doggett's voice.

 

"Sorry," Byers said. "Yeah, let's go eat." Upon being 

reminded, he could feel his stomach rumble. "I didn't 

realize I'd been here so long, and I'm hungry too."

 

"You doin' better now?"

 

Byers nodded. "Yeah, thanks. I needed some time to let it 

go."

 

"You maybe want Korean barbeque?" Doggett asked. "I know a 

decent little lunch place not far from here where they do 

it pretty good."

 

"Not sure my stomach could handle kim chee right now. 

Russian maybe? Some piroshkys?"

 

Doggett nodded. "I guess we could do that."

 

PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL

ROOM 1246

AFTERNOON

 

"Talk to me, Johnny." 

 

Doggett hung their clean suits up in the closet. They had 

been waiting on the bed for them when they arrived after 

lunch.

 

Byers sighed, kicked his sneakers off, and folded himself 

onto the bed to sit. He'd been quiet and withdrawn since 

they'd met Munch at the library. Byers had said that Munch 

had brought up a lot of bad memories for him, but Doggett 

had been hoping that lunch would help him relax a little. 

He looked a little less haunted than he had, but Byers was 

still in a very dark mood.

 

"It must have been pretty bad," Doggett said quietly, 

seating himself next to Byers.

 

Byers nodded. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't be acting 

this way. It was years ago. There's no reason for me to 

still be effected by it like this."

 

"It's not that unusual when somebody's been through a 

trauma," Doggett said. "It can stay with you the rest of 

your life."

 

Byers closed his eyes, lowering his head. "I hope not."

 

"What happened to you?"

 

Byers looked up at Doggett. "Everything I believed in was 

stolen from me or destroyed, and I was on my knees in a 

warehouse with a gun at my head, knowing I was going to 

die." Byers was pale and quiet, but steady. "I lost 

everything that day. My job, my faith, my plans for the 

future, my heart, my family -- everything."

 

"It sounds terrible," Doggett said.

 

Byers nodded. "Yeah, you could say that."

 

"How did all that happen?"

 

Byers sighed. "That's a really long story. It... it 

involved Susanne, and Mulder, and Munch. And it was the day 

I met the guys. It opened my eyes to the conspiracies, to 

the truth of their existence and how dangerous they are. We 

tried to stop their plans. It almost cost all of us our 

lives. Well, not Munch. He just questioned us afterwards."

 

"Who were 'they,' and what plans were those?"

 

"The same people behind the supersoldiers, the alien 

colonization plans, the shapeshifters, and pretty much 

everything else we've run across over the years," Byers 

said. "In that particular case, they were attempting to 

test a chemical that Susanne had developed that caused 

paranoia in those exposed to it." He looked at Doggett with 

an expression that said he knew Doggett wasn't going to 

believe him.

 

"This Susanne was the woman you--"

 

Byers nodded. "I have no idea what came over me. I fell for 

her the minute I saw her. The irony was, everything she 

told me was a lie. She was trying to get information from 

an encrypted DARPA file about the test of an ergotamine-

histamine gas she'd developed under threat to her life 

while she was working at the Advanced Weapons Facility in 

Whitestone, New Mexico. The conspiracy had framed her for 

the death of her co-workers and an MP. By the time we were 

through, we'd stopped the conspiracy's test, but Susanne 

was snatched off the street right in front of us by the 

same man who was going to execute us."

 

Doggett wasn't sure what to say. It all sounded confusing, 

but he certainly could see how it effected Byers. "But the 

guy obviously didn't kill you. What happened?"

 

Byers shivered. "I still don't really know. Much later, we 

found out that the man was one of Mulder's informants." 

Byers' voice dropped away to a bare whisper. "He had the 

gun to my head, Jack. He pulled the trigger on an empty 

chamber. I... I still hear that sound."

 

Doggett moved closer to Byers and put an arm around him. 

"I'm sorry, Johnny. "

 

Byers looked at him, startled and angry. "Don't touch me." 

He slid away from Doggett, shaking his head. "I can't talk 

about this anymore."

 

Doggett looked at Byers, concerned about his pain and his 

distance. "You don't have to say anything else about it. 

I'm sorry you went through that." Byers was pale and upset, 

his body tense and stiff, but he wasn't shaking. His face 

was cold as granite. "It was over years ago," Doggett said 

quietly, putting as much reassurance as he could into his 

voice.

 

Doggett had his own share of moments like those. Lebanon, 

and the loss of his son lived too vividly in his mind, 

replaying like loop tapes in his nightmares. He understood 

the fear and the anger and the self-loathing that came with 

all of it; the helplessness of those situations, and their 

feeling of terrible inexorability. Doggett had been where 

Byers was far too often. 

 

"It's not over," Byers said. "It surrounds me, every day. 

All the things that were going on then, they're still going 

on. The players change, but the conspiracies continue. It 

doesn't seem to matter how many years pass, it's all right 

here." He tapped his head with a finger. "I wish I could 

forget. I wish I could erase it all." 

 

The sadness and anger in Byers' eyes was profound. This, 

Doggett thought, must be where his habitual solemnity was 

rooted, and the calm, sorrowful expression that usually 

occupied his face. He knew Byers was, at heart, an 

idealist, and from what little had been said, it seemed 

that much of the man's belief in things being good and 

right in the world had been shattered that day. Byers 

sounded like he'd never really recovered. 

 

He wished there was something he could do to offer Byers a 

little ease and comfort, some shelter from the internal 

storm, but the bearded man was cold and distant, unwilling 

to be touched. The dissociation was another feeling Doggett 

knew too well. When Byers was ready, maybe he'd talk more 

about it. That, however, might be a long time coming.

 

"We've still got a few hours before dinner and the show, 

Johnny. Did you want to do anything, or would you rather 

just lie down for a while?"

 

Byers was huddled tightly into himself, sullen. "I don't 

know," he said quietly.

 

Doggett sighed. "I guess we'll stay here for a while, then. 

Do you want company, or should I leave you alone?"

 

Byers looked at him and his face softened. "Please, stay."

 

Doggett nodded. 

 

Byers sighed and lay on his side, still looking troubled. 

He wrapped his arms around himself. Doggett slid closer to 

him, laying a hand tentatively on his shoulder. "Is this 

okay?" he asked.

 

"Yeah." Byers closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to 

snap at you."

 

"I know what it's like, Johnny. I have my own shit to cope 

with, and I've done way worse stuff than that when I've 

been in that mood. I wish you'd let me help." He squeezed 

Byers' shoulder and raised his hand to Byers' head, quietly 

stroking his hair. 

 

Byers started to relax slightly, then sighed deeply. "This 

helps," he whispered. He looked up at Doggett, overwhelming 

sadness still darkening his clear blue eyes. Doggett 

wondered if he was lying. He really didn't want to see 

Byers stay in this mood.

 

"Move over," Doggett said. He kicked his shoes off and slid 

onto the bed next to Byers, and they both moved a little 

more toward the center of the mattress. Doggett lay on his 

back. "Okay, c'mere," he said, sliding an arm around Byers.

 

Byers scooted to Doggett's side, laying his head on the 

man's shoulder. He draped his arm over Doggett's broad 

chest. Doggett could feel the tension in Byers' body as he 

wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. "Try to 

relax a little," Doggett said, slowly running his fingers 

through Byers' hair.

 

Byers sighed and settled, still tense. "I wish it was that 

easy."

 

"Just breathe, Johnny. Close your eyes and breathe slow and 

deep. It helps."

 

Byers lay still, taking slow, deep breaths for a while. 

Eventually, the tension in his muscles started to seep 

away, but he groaned softly and fisted Doggett's shirt in 

one hand.

 

"What's wrong?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers' reply was quiet and strained. "I have a headache, 

and my body is really aching too."

 

Doggett nodded. "You want some more aspirin? The aches are 

partly left over from last night, but I'm gonna guess that 

the headache's just from stress, and that ain't helping the 

muscles much either."

 

"You're probably right," Byers said. "I don't get headaches 

very often that aren't from stress, unless I'm down with 

something."

 

"Hang on, let me get you some aspirin. You go ahead and 

stay here."

 

Doggett slid out from under Byers, bringing back water and 

aspirin from the bathroom. Byers sat to take the pills as 

Doggett lay down on the bed next to him again. Setting the 

glass down on the bedside table, Byers lay back down as 

well. He settled into Doggett's embrace, slightly more 

relaxed this time.

 

"Thanks," Byers said.

 

"You gonna be okay?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers nodded. "In a while. Maybe I'll be in a better mood 

when I don't hurt so much."

 

"Probably." Doggett ran his fingers over Byers' cheek, and 

Byers looked up at him. Doggett bent his head down and 

kissed him softly, their lips meeting with a quiet breath. 

"Just rest for a while. We've got a lot of time before we 

have to be anywhere." Byers nodded and lay his head down to 

rest.

 

Some time later, Byers asked, "Jack, why are you being so 

good to me?"

 

"I like you," Doggett said. "I've been havin' a good time 

with you. Why shouldn't I be good to you? Did you want me 

to be a stressed out asshole or something? I could probably 

manage it if you insist."

 

Byers snorted and smiled. "No, that's okay. I guess I'm 

just not used to it."

 

"Maybe you should be." Doggett's fingers slipped slowly 

through Byers' soft hair, his touch a caress.

 

"I wouldn't mind that." Byers' voice was sad but hopeful, 

as though he didn't believe there would ever be a reason to 

be used to it.

 

"I meant what I was sayin' earlier," Doggett said. "I 

really think you sell yourself short, Johnny. You got a lot 

goin' for you, but you refuse to see it. Maybe you should 

try just relaxing, being yourself around other people 

sometimes."

 

Byers shook his head gently. "It's too dangerous. You know 

that."

 

"Yeah, there's risks, but I don't keep myself locked in a 

warehouse basement workin' around the clock, either."

 

"That's true." Byers slid his hand along Doggett's chest, 

letting it come to rest at his hip. "I'm not you."

 

Doggett chuckled. "God, I hope not. One of me is enough for 

most purposes."

 

"I'm not so sure about that," Byers said, his voice taking 

on a slight tone of mischief.

 

Doggett smiled. "Oh? And what did you think you'd need two 

of me for?"

 

Byers snickered. "I'm sure you'd think of something."

 

Doggett drew Byers closer. "Oh yeah, I suppose I could 

think of a few things." He laughed, imagining two of him 

with Byers, one fucking, one being sucked. It sent a tingle 

down his spine, creating a slight stirring in his groin. 

"You got a dirty mind, Johnny. That innocent-looking face 

of yours don't fool me."

 

"I have no idea what you mean," Byers said. Doggett heard 

him snicker again under his breath. This was good. A 

returning sense of humor was a sign that Byers was probably 

starting to feel better, both physically and emotionally. 

 

Doggett ran a hand down Byers' back, starting to massage 

the slender man's muscles and tendons. He felt less tense 

than he had when they first lay down together. It wasn't 

long before Byers was much more relaxed, and mumbling 

quietly about how good it felt. Byers' back was warm, and 

he was starting to melt under Doggett's hand. A few minutes 

later, Doggett tugged at Byers' shirt, pulling the hem out 

of his pants, then slid his hand underneath, caressing the 

soft, bare skin.

 

Byers sighed. "So nice," he said quietly. His own hand 

stirred from Doggett's hip and started to caress its way 

down the outside of Doggett's thigh, moving slow and 

tender. 

 

Doggett could feel Byers' breathing deepen, still slow and 

relaxed, and his own kept a similar pace. Their motion was 

soft and languid, unhurried but sensual. He could lie in 

this space for hours, drifting in the quiet eroticism of 

slow moving hands and the soothing sound of gentle, aroused 

breath. Content, he would let Byers decide if things went 

further, not wanting to push if the contact was meant more 

for comfort than passion. 

 

Doggett knew from his own experience that at times like 

these sex had the potential to be healing and give great 

pleasure, but it could also hurt someone in a fragile, 

vulnerable state of mind, as Byers had been. There could be 

a lot of satisfaction in erotic play that didn't lead to 

more involved sexual acts, and if that was what happened, 

he was all right with it. On the other hand, if Byers 

wanted an intense, body-shaking fuck, he'd be more than 

happy to provide that as well -- or anything in between.

 

Byers' hand followed the line of Doggett's thigh to his 

knee, fingertips tracing the muscles under the faded jeans. 

Slowly, they trailed back up from knee to hip, sliding down 

along the curve of Doggett's ass where it met the mattress. 

Doggett tilted his hips slightly toward Byers, raising his 

knee and resting his leg on Byers' hip. He sighed at the 

feel of Byers' slim body on his inner thigh, and held him a 

little more closely. Byers moved with him, slipping one leg 

between Doggett's thighs, and moving his fingers along 

Doggett's ass to where the muscle met his back. With a soft 

motion, Byers palm cupped the firm curve.

 

"What do you want, Johnny?" Doggett asked quietly. The 

touch was awakening arousal in him, and he wanted to have 

some idea of where this was going before he made any 

decisions.

 

Byers looked up at him. "I just... I guess I just want to 

be here for a while like this." He sighed. "My headache's a 

little better, but I still don't feel quite right. I like 

how this feels, what we're doing." 

 

He slid his hand slowly up Doggett's side to his shoulder, 

pulling him closer. Doggett answered the movement by 

holding Byers tight to his body, and Byers made a little 

rumbly purring sound. Doggett's fingers moved on the bare 

skin of Byers' back, and Byers tucked his head next to 

Doggett's cheek.

 

"This what you need?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers nodded. "Yeah."

 

Nuzzling in Byers' hair, Doggett closed his eyes. "I like 

how you feel," he said. "You have a such a good body; warm, 

strong, comfortable." He stroked Byers' cheek as he let his 

other hand roam Byers' upper back. "This is good, spending 

time with you like this."

 

Byers squeezed him hard for a moment, then lay a hesitant 

kiss on Doggett's neck. "Thanks," he said. "It's been years 

since I could just... since anyone's been with me like 

this." His voice quieted, barely a whisper. "I've needed 

this so much."

 

Doggett nodded. "A lot of guys I've been with aren't much 

into it, but I like it. Some of 'em, all they want is a 

fuck, and then it's 'get outta my face.' I never understood 

that. I mean, sometimes, yeah, I've felt that way, but 

really only if the guy's been a lousy lay or a jerk. Mostly 

it feels good to hold somebody, to have 'em next to you 

like this."

 

Byers shifted his weight, and Doggett loosened his arms to 

let him move. With a little grunt, Byers picked himself up 

and lay fully atop Doggett's body, sliding his arms under 

Doggett's shoulders. Doggett could feel Byers watching him 

and opened his eyes as he slid his arms back around Byers' 

body.

 

"When I hear you talk about having been with those other 

men, all these guys you've been with, sometimes I feel a 

little envious," Byers said.

 

"No," Doggett shook his head. "You don't want to envy that, 

Johnny. There wasn't much to it, just sex. Most of it 

didn't mean anything. There was never any kind of 

connection. The few times there was, there were other 

reasons things didn't last. It's like the difference 

between chips and pot roast. Chips might fill your stomach, 

but they don't really feed you."

 

"Langly might disagree with you on that," Byers said with a 

soft chuckle. "You just... you have so much more confidence 

than I do, so much more experience. I guess that's what I 

wish I had, when I think about it."

 

Doggett took Byers' face between his hands. "You'll get 

there. You're a good man, Johnny. Someday you'll meet the 

right person, and you'll feel confident with him -- or with 

her -- I don't know what you really want and only you can 

know for sure. It makes a difference though, feeling that 

way with somebody, and once you feel it you can learn to 

hang onto it. Don't think that just because you're a sub 

you won't feel it, or just because it hasn't happened yet, 

it never will."

 

Byers looked into his eyes, a thoughtful expression on his 

face. "When I'm working, I have a lot of confidence. I know 

I'm good at what I do. I've faced so much over the years 

and gotten through. It's just when I'm in situations like 

this, when it's... intimate..." Byers hesitated, blushing.

 

"But you know what you want, Johnny." Doggett traced a 

thumb along Byers' cheekbone with a soft, slow stroke. 

"You've asked for what you wanted this weekend. You weren't 

sure about what you could actually take, but you knew what 

you wanted. That's where it starts. It takes a lot of 

courage to ask, especially when it's something that most 

people think of as weird or dangerous, like they do with 

this kind of thing."

 

Byers nodded.

 

"You were so beautiful last night," Doggett said, his voice 

quiet and rough, "so hot. What we did, that was some of the 

most intense sex I've had in years." He watched as Byers' 

pupils dilated, heard Byers' breathing quicken. He felt 

Byers' heart race as he held him. "It was more than just a 

fuck. There's --" Doggett couldn't say another word. The 

feeling was sharp and dangerous and touched something in 

him too deeply. He pulled Byers down to him and kissed him 

hard, sliding his tongue into the man's mouth.

 

Byers responded, moaning and sucking on Doggett's tongue. 

Doggett wanted him, wanted to rip his clothes off, pin him 

down and fuck him face to face, long and slow. His blood 

was burning with desire for it, pulse pounding fast and hot 

as he held Byers and moaned into his mouth. He wanted to 

feel Byers' legs wrapped around him, chest to chest, his 

rod buried in that hot, tight ass.

 

They broke the kiss and Byers was gasping. "Want you," 

Doggett growled, "god I want you so bad."

 

"Yes," Byers hissed. His eyes were half-open, glassy and 

shining. The two men rolled on the bed, pulling each 

other's clothes off as fast as they could.

 

"Do you want it, Johnny?" he asked, pulling Byers' shirt 

over his head. He sucked on Byers' neck as the shirt came 

away.

 

Byers' hands were pulling at the button of his jeans, 

tugging the zipper down. "God, yes." Byers was panting, 

lust in his eyes.

 

Doggett lifted himself up as Byers pulled his pants down 

from his hips. "Do you want me?" he growled, urgent, then 

realized he'd asked aloud. The question had fallen from his 

lips before his mind had even framed it, but now it loomed 

before him, frighteningly important.

 

Byers had left off tugging at his pants and was pulling at 

his shirt now. "I love what you do to me, Jack, how you 

make me feel." Byers' voice was husky and deep. He kissed 

Doggett, swift and hot. "I want you." With another tug, he 

pulled Doggett's shirt over his head. "Go easy, I'm a 

little sore."

 

Doggett shed his pants then pulled Byers' off, as he had 

already unfastened his own jeans. "Johnny, do you trust 

me?" It was quiet, tentative, another question he felt a 

terrible need to have answered.

 

Byers looked at him, frustration on his face, breathing 

hard. "Don't ask me that. I don't... I can't answer. I 

don't know." He grabbed Doggett's wrist, heat in his eyes 

and in his voice. "I don't want to talk right now. I want 

you. I want to forget everything but this, everything but 

right now. Please, just help me forget. I don't want to 

think, I just want to feel you in me, feel your body on 

me." Byers' eyes pleaded with him, and Doggett pulled a 

condom and lube from the bedside drawer.

 

With a sigh, Byers closed his eyes and leaned back, letting 

go of Doggett's wrist. After applying the lube and condom, 

Doggett spread his body over Byers, lying between his open, 

waiting thighs. He could feel Byers' hardness against his 

own, two hot, erect cocks sliding slowly against each 

other. Byers groaned and took Doggett's ass in his hands, 

kneading at the muscles.

 

They clung together, kissing and touching, their bodies 

flowing in the deep, slow rhythm of their desire. Their 

need for each other expressed itself in touch and the rough 

sound of their quickening breath.

 

"God, Jack, you have such an amazing body," Byers growled 

as he moved with his Master. He slid a hand up from 

Doggett's ass along his back. "Gorgeous muscles," Byers' 

voice was deep and breathless but quiet as Doggett caressed 

him with the naked length of his body. His eyes were 

closed, but he could hear Doggett's deep breathing. Byers 

was lost in sensation. "Hard and strong, so powerful." His 

hands continued their journey from Doggett's ass to his 

shoulders. "Love the way they move under your skin, like a 

tiger, god, graceful..."

 

Doggett's mouth was at his throat, hot and wet. "Yes," 

Byers whispered. Doggett was hard and dangerous, all muscle 

and bone and sinew, and he moved like a predator in Byers' 

arms. His weight burned Byers' flesh, driving away the 

memories and the fear Byers hated so much. There was 

nothing else: the summer heat, the bed beneath him, his 

Master's powerful body driving him to ecstasy. If there was 

darkness in Byers now, it was only the blind intensity of 

his need.

 

Doggett rumbled above him, slick, hard shaft moving against 

Byers' own. He raised his knees and spread himself wide, 

inviting Doggett to enter him. He felt Doggett move down 

his body, a hand sliding between them, down between his 

legs. Fingers caressed his balls, then carefully slicked 

his opening as his Master sucked at a nipple. Byers moaned 

loud and his cock jerked as the sensation shot through him.

 

One finger entered him, and Byers yipped, still tender. 

Doggett moved slowly and stretched him carefully, still 

sucking his nipple. It was exquisite distraction as his 

Master slid a second finger into him and started thrusting, 

slow and gentle. The motion continued until Byers cried 

out, nearly weeping with want. 

 

"God, Jack, I need you in me, please." He couldn’t control 

the whine in his voice, or his desperation. The way Doggett 

broke his control every time they did this left Byers 

willing to do anything to have more of his Master's touch.

 

Doggett moved on him, panting. "Easy, Johnny. You want my 

rod, I'll give it to you slow and deep." 

 

Doggett took Byers' ankles in his hands and held him wide 

open, ass raised and exposed, pushing his hot, thick shaft 

into him.

 

"Yes, god, yes," Byers wailed, "ahhhhhhh..." Chest heaving, 

mouth wide open, Byers fisted the bedspread under him as 

Doggett kept moving deeper in one long, slow thrust. The 

motion didn't stop until Doggett was buried in him to the 

root, his balls resting against Byers' ass, hot and heavy. 

Byers couldn't stop moaning and thrashing his head from 

side to side with his body's abandon.

 

"God, Johnny, god, you're so hot and tight." Doggett's 

voice strained with the effort of his stillness, and Byers 

reached out to take Doggett's wrists.

 

"Please," Byers gasped, "don't stop. Let me feel you move 

in me."

 

Doggett took Byers' hands in his, pinning them beside 

Byers' head, then started pumping into him at a torturously 

slow pace. Byers wrapped his legs around Doggett's waist, 

following the intense, deep movements, crying out 

wordlessly. His opening was still sore, but the penetration 

was unbearable perfection. His every nerve was burning with 

the sensation, and the fullness of Doggett's cock in him 

seemed to fill his whole body. His hips rocked with his 

Master's gentle, endless thrusts. His hands clung tightly 

to Doggett's, fingers intertwined. 

 

Byers felt entirely possessed. His body was consumed in the 

intensity of their union, leaving no room for anything else 

\-- he felt no fear, no regret, no paranoia -- nothing but 

heart-deep satisfaction. Byers was lost in the dizziness of 

flight and the ecstasy of fullness, and the only physical 

sensation that really registered was the agonizing, 

gloriously slow friction of Doggett moving inside him.

 

His grunts and cries became keening as he moved slowly with 

Doggett's deep, languid strokes. Byers lay, pierced by his 

Master's body, on the blade sharp edge of eternity. Time 

lost its meaning, and he had no idea how long the intimate 

dance of their pleasure continued. It flowed over and 

through him like a tidal force and the sound of Doggett's 

voice groaning and calling his name slid into his bones 

like bonfire heat. Where his Master touched him, fire 

remained. His kisses were blazing coals in paths along 

Byers' skin. 

 

Doggett's skin slid along his, sweat slicked and hot, the 

broad spread of his body caressing Byers from hips to 

shoulders. His weight was a welcome anchor as Byers' senses 

whirled, and then hot, sharp cries as Doggett came inside 

him, thrusting into him deep and strong. The throbbing cock 

inside him stroked him to his own peak and threw him down, 

shouting and jerking as he shot gouts of hot, sticky come 

between their bodies.

 

Doggett was still on him for a time as they panted and 

gasped together. Eventually, Byers felt Doggett slide 

gently out of him, hands stroking his sides, his chest, his 

waist, calling him back to his body. Doggett's mouth, wet 

and soft, played slow along his skin. It was a long time 

before he opened his eyes.

 

"Where are you, Johnny?" Doggett's voice was caring, 

compassionate. Byers felt a hand stroking through his hair. 

It felt good. He looked up into his Master's face, eyes 

still half closed.

 

"I'm here," Byers said, but all he could manage was a 

hoarse, shaky whisper. 

 

Doggett took the water glass from the bedside table, where 

Byers had set it after he took his aspirin. Propping Byers 

up against his body, Doggett held it to his lips. Byers 

tried to move to take the glass, but his limbs were limp as 

wet string. He sipped slowly.

 

"Thanks," he said, his voice steadier but still quiet. 

There was no energy left in him at all, and he was heavy 

with need for sleep.

 

Doggett set the glass down again and kissed him. It was 

very slow and careful, almost sweet. "Rest," Doggett said.

 

Byers nodded, slipping back down to the bed as Doggett lay 

him down and curled around his body. They held each other 

and Byers fell into warm, comforting darkness.

 

Doggett looked over at the clock. There was still more than 

enough time for a nap and a shower before they had to dress 

for dinner and the show. He was too drained to rise and 

clean them up just yet. It wasn't like a little semen was 

going to hurt anything.

 

Byers' soft, slow breathing and the calm expression on his 

face were reassuring. He was sure that Byers would sleep 

peacefully, pleasantly exhausted. It seemed unlikely that 

the man's memories of his experiences in Baltimore would be 

so pressing when he woke. Doggett doubted that anything 

fearful or distressing could have made it through Byers' 

ecstatic state. 

 

They had been joined, rocking together in their need and 

desire, for a long time. Doggett had been rather surprised 

that he'd been able to sustain their coupling for so long. 

He wasn't old, but he sure wasn't getting any younger 

either. What Byers did to him, how he reacted to his... his 

friend, left him wondering what he wanted when he got home. 

He knew he wanted to keep seeing Byers. That much was 

obvious. It seemed Byers was open to it, at least. They 

were good together; their erotic needs and desires meshed 

well, their personalities surprisingly complementary. He'd 

be a fool to let Byers walk away without good reason. The 

quiet man sleeping next to him had gotten under his skin 

with disturbing facility.

 

The whole thing left Doggett uneasy, but strongly and 

undeniably attracted. He knew that the weekend and the suit 

were expensive gifts, but even with Byers' earlier 

moodiness Doggett felt it had been well worth the price. It 

wasn't as though Byers had simply had some petulant mood 

swing, and Doggett had his own share of demons that 

threatened to consume him now and again. He found he had a 

lot of empathy for Byers, different as they were.

 

He watched Byers sleeping, a quiet snore escaping every so 

often. For someone so paranoid, he was letting himself be 

incredibly open and vulnerable. Shy, guarded, and withdrawn 

in so many ways, Byers was -- intentionally or not -- 

offering him something deep and precious. Was it his trust, 

action moving ahead of intention without conscious choice? 

Doggett felt a strange sense of privilege in receiving such 

a gift. The cost of a suit or a weekend in the City could 

never match the emotional value of such a thing. 

 

Doggett sighed and shook his head. There was too much 

paradox involved. Maybe if he was better at thinking the 

way Mulder did, he'd understand more clearly what was 

happening. As it was, the whole thing seemed on the verge 

of becoming its own odd sort of X File. Perhaps a little 

time and emotional distance would put things back into 

perspective, he thought. Maybe it would be best to think 

about it after he'd been home for a while.

 

He closed his eyes, intensely conscious of Byers sleeping 

in his arms. It felt right.

 

STUDIO 54

WEST 54TH STREET

6:30 PM

 

"Papers, please. Let me see your papers." The request, and 

the German accent, left Byers with a creepy feeling. He 

knew the play was set in pre-war Berlin, but he didn't 

really think he needed to feel like he was there. Doggett 

presented their tickets to the man at the door, who was 

dressed in a German military uniform. The man examined 

them, handed their ticket stubs back, and said, "Thank you. 

I hope you will enjoy your stay in Berlin."

 

Byers looked over at Doggett, nervous in the crowd. They 

were both dressed to the teeth, Byers in his new suit, 

Doggett in one that was equally expensive and attractive.

 

"Don't worry, Johnny," Doggett said with a grin, "we get 

out before the war."

 

Byers smiled back and shook his head. "Damned good thing, 

too. You know what they'd have done to us."

 

"It was over before either of us were born."

 

Byers looked up at Doggett. "Just don't say 'it can't 

happen here,' okay?"

 

"I wasn't goin' anywhere near that," Doggett replied. 

"C'mon, let's find our seats."

 

Byers followed Doggett through the filling theatre, down to 

a table near the stage. They sat, and Byers looked around. 

The seats must have been expensive, he thought. They were 

only one row back from the stage. Things were likely to get 

loud, and probably intense as well. That was fine with 

Byers. He'd have time and space to wind down at dinner 

after the show, and later back at the hotel. Sunday's 

opening was at seven, and they'd be out around nine thirty; 

not too late for a decent dinner by any means.

 

"So what do you think?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers chuckled. "I think we're so close to the stage that 

the Kit Kat girls will flirt with you."

 

"That is sorta their job," Doggett said, grinning.

 

"And you look like it would be such a burden."

 

Doggett flagged down a waiter and ordered drinks for them, 

then turned to Byers. "Having women flirt with me. A 

terrible job, but somebody's gotta do it." He made a very 

ineffective attempt to adopt a martyred expression. 

 

Byers laughed. 

 

"Besides," Doggett said, "with this show, maybe the guys'll 

be flirting with me too." He grinned a pleased, evil grin.

 

Byers rolled his eyes. "I trust you weren't planning on 

grabbing anyone's ass in public."

 

"They don't pay the actors enough for that. Besides," he 

gave Byers a seductive look, "I already have a cute ass to 

grab."

 

"Not in public you don't," Byers said, blushing.

 

Doggett chuckled. "It's okay, Johnny. I won't do that to 

you. Way too public here."

 

Byers nodded. "The park was too public Friday, if you want 

my opinion."

 

"Nah," Doggett said, shaking his head. "Nobody would even 

notice us there unless we were ripping each other's clothes 

off in the middle of the jogging trail. This ain't 

Virginia."

 

"And you and I aren't cover models for 'Out.'" Byers gave 

Doggett a rueful glance. "It's not like we've got nothing 

to lose."

 

"You worry too much. Why not just enjoy the show?"

 

The waiter returned with their drinks, and winked at 

Doggett when he paid.

 

"What did I tell you?" Byers said. "They're flirting with 

you already."

 

Doggett snorted. "It must be my stunning good looks or 

somethin'."

 

"You won't get an argument from me on that one," Byers 

muttered.

 

Doggett grinned broadly. "Unless they're tryin' to get your 

attention by flirtin' with me." He took a sip of his beer. 

 

Byers tasted his own. A German lager; no doubt ordered as 

much for atmosphere as for the flavor. "Yeah, right," Byers 

said, "I'm more likely to be trampled in the rush for your 

attention."

 

Doggett shot Byers a sharp glance. "Stop that shit," he 

said. "I'm not gonna listen to you run yourself down. You 

wanna do that, do it in front of Frohike or something. He 

might believe you."

 

Byers gave a dry chuckle. "Did I ever tell you that Frohike 

thinks he's a 'chick magnet?'"

 

Doggett laughed. "That's a good one. Then again, if 

Langly's been with Skinner and you're seein' me, he's 

probably the closest thing to a chick magnet you guys got."

 

"Oh?" Byers said, arching an eyebrow. "You seem to have 

forgotten tall, buff Jimmy of the astonishing pecs."

 

"I was sorta tryin' to," Doggett said. "Good lookin' kid, 

but he doesn't seem to have the brains god gave your 

average amoeba."

 

Byers shook his head. "Give him a break, Jack. He's not 

stupid. He's just... a little scattered is all. He thinks 

with his heart, not his head. He's a good kid, and he tries 

really hard. If you ever talked to him, you'd know his 

heart was in the right place. And besides, he's the only 

thing keeping us in the black right now."

 

"Okay," Doggett conceded, "so he's about as smart as a 

Golden Retriever."

 

Byers rested his chin in his hand and glared at Doggett.

 

"Sorry," Doggett said with a chuckle. "I know you like him, 

and he's helping out the best he can. It's just kinda hard 

to take him seriously sometimes. Especially when he was 

goin' on about that blind football team of his." Doggett 

shook his head, amused.

 

Byers nodded, knowing he wasn't going to get anything more 

out of Doggett on this one. He did like Jimmy. Yes, he 

found their resident jock insufferably annoying sometimes, 

but at least Jimmy cared. Jimmy believed in what they were 

doing, and it was hard to find people who did, who regarded 

any of them as more than a joke. Sometimes he thought he 

saw a little of his own lost hope and idealism in Jimmy's 

eyes, and he wasn't sure whether to be sorry for the young 

man or for himself. Byers' own innocence had fled in 1989, 

taking too much of him with it.

 

As the house lights went down and the opening lines of 

'Wilkommen' rang out with the spotlight on the Emcee, Byers 

felt Doggett's hand slide into his lap. He covered it with 

his own. In the dark, with everyone's eyes on the show, 

Byers thought it might be private enough for this 

indulgence. The warmth and intimacy of the touch was 

comfortable, and Doggett's hand didn't stray this time. He 

was certain, however, that when they got back to the hotel, 

more than Doggett's hands would be straying. He would 

welcome it then. 

 

Byers wished he didn't have to hide. Given his choice, he'd 

far rather be leaning against Doggett, his Master's arm 

around his shoulders, both of them comfortable and open 

about who and what they were. Sometimes he wondered if the 

price for what he did with his life was too high. He didn't 

honestly believe he could walk away from it. The price of 

his silence and complicity about the conspiracies would 

only be higher. It was not an acceptable option.

 

Cliff's negotiations with Fraulein Schneider over the cost 

of a cheap room made Byers laugh. "Reminds me of my place," 

he said, leaning into Doggett's ear.

 

"That's because it looks like your place," Doggett said. 

"All it needs is a dozen computers and a Ramones poster."

 

Byers snorted, almost spewing his beer. "Don't do that to 

me," he said when he caught his breath.

 

"You started it," Doggett hissed. "Now hush, I wanna watch 

the show." He grinned at Byers.

 

Byers managed to maintain something resembling silence, 

watching as much of the audience sang along with the cast. 

When Sally talked her way into Cliff's room, however, he 

couldn't help laughing again.

 

"Oh god, that reminds me so much of Jimmy when he came to 

stay with us. But at least he pays the rent," he said, 

hiding his face in his hand for a moment.

 

"Oh really?" Doggett asked. "So which of you guys is he 

sleeping with?" He gave Byers a wicked grin.

 

Byers tilted an eyebrow at him. "I think he's more 

interested in women than in any of us, thank god."

 

"I didn't think he was your type anyway," Doggett said, and 

turned back to the show.

 

"And what, pray tell, do you think is my type?" Byers 

asked.

 

Doggett just smiled.

 

When Fraulein Schneider and Herr Schultz went into their 

duet of 'It Couldn't Please Me More,' Doggett looked back 

at Byers. "Pineapples."

 

Byers chuckled. "They're great in sweet and sour pork."

 

"What, you want I should bring you one?"

 

Byers grimaced. "Not if we have to sing that song."

 

Doggett laughed. "Half the audience already is."

 

Byers shook his head. "I can't sing."

 

"How do you know? You ever try?"

 

"Yes. It was hideously embarrassing."

 

Doggett looked at Byers, a doubtful expression in his eyes. 

Byers wondered if this meant an attempt to prod him into 

singing might materialize at some point. It wouldn't work. 

Nothing would get him to sing. He settled into silence 

again, watching the show and Doggett until the cast sang a 

chilling reprise of 'Tomorrow Belongs to Me' and went into 

the intermission.

 

"So what do you think so far?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers shuddered. "It's very well done," he said. "Maybe a 

little too well done."

 

"I really like the authenticity though," Doggett said. "The 

costumes are great. Really good acting. It's supposed to 

effect you like that."

 

"I know. That doesn't mean I have to be comfortable with 

it." Byers looked up at Doggett. "I think I'd like another 

beer. Something not German."

 

"How about a Guinness or something?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers nodded. "Sounds about right." He didn't usually drink 

much, and figured he would probably be a little tipsy by 

the time they got back to the hotel, but he didn't really 

think Doggett would mind. Maybe it would crack a few of his 

inhibitions and let him think about some of the things that 

were bothering him. Trust. Closets. Fear. Silence. Desire. 

Intimacy. He squeezed Doggett's hand, still in his lap. 

 

Doggett squeezed back, warm and reassuring. He ordered a 

Guinness for Byers and another German lager for himself 

when the waiter hurried over.

 

Byers just hoped that if they had more to drink at dinner, 

he wouldn't end up with a hangover. He hated them with a 

blazing passion because they kept him from being clear-

headed enough to work. He didn't want to even consider how 

they made the inside of his head and his stomach feel like 

they were filled with hot, whirling sand. Byers doubted 

that it would be an issue for Doggett, who was larger and 

rather bulkier. The athletic man could probably put away 

several more than he could without even noticing. He sipped 

slowly, letting the bitter richness of the thick, dark 

stout roll over his tongue.

 

"Thanks," Byers said. "This is better."

 

Doggett nodded. "No problem. What's on your mind? You got 

that far away look again."

 

"A lot of things, really," Byers said. He hadn't realized 

he was that obviously lost in thought. "I'm sorry."

 

"Why are you apologizing?"

 

Byers lowered his eyes. "I should be having fun. You went 

to all this effort and expense, and I'm sitting here 

brooding." He looked back up at Doggett.

 

Doggett's eyes were kind and understanding. He leaned 

closer to Byers. "I've been getting the impression since I 

met you that you're just that kinda guy, Johnny. I don't 

expect you to flick a switch and be all sunshine and light, 

you know. Are you enjoying yourself at all, or would you 

rather leave?"

 

"Oh, no, not at all. I'm actually quite enjoying the play, 

it just --"

 

"Makes you think," Doggett said, anticipating his words. 

 

Byers nodded, his mouth still slightly open. He would have 

expected that from Frohike or Langly, but not from John 

Doggett. It was an odd feeling; almost too intimate. His 

body tilted closer under its own volition, and he barely 

noticed. He wasn't sure what to make of the feeling, 

whether to be happy or terrified. They were so close to 

each other now, their faces only inches away. Their eyes 

locked for just a moment and something deep and unspeakable 

flashed between them, setting his heart pounding. He saw 

Doggett's eyes widen for an instant, dark with desire, then 

Byers pulled away, knowing how close he'd come to kissing 

the man in public. He shoved down a wave of panic and took 

a deep breath, picking up his Guinness.

 

"Johnny," Doggett asked quietly, "are you gonna be okay?"

 

What the hell did he want from himself, Byers wondered. The 

whole weekend he'd been doing things he'd never even 

consider doing with or around anyone else. "I'm not sure," 

Byers said. "I think so." 

 

What was it about Doggett that brought these things out of 

him? He'd thought at first that he understood what was 

happening, that it was just about sex and having someone to 

talk to and be with now and then; that Doggett would help 

him get away from the office sometimes and show him a few 

of the nicer things in life. Now it was confusing and a 

little frightening and he was having a hard time focusing 

on anything but the man holding his hand under the table. 

He sipped at the stout to cover his nervousness.

 

Doggett squeezed his hand again. "If you want to leave, 

just let me know. Now would be the time for it, before we 

get into the second act."

 

"No, no," Byers said. "I'll be fine. I want to stay. 

There's just been so much on my mind this weekend that I 

guess I'm having a hard time focusing." On anything but 

him, Byers thought. Doggett's strong hand in his, 

squeezing, gave him a center in the midst of his confusion.

 

Doggett nodded, looking doubtful. "Well, if you're 

sure..."

 

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'd like to see the rest of the play. It's 

really well done. It would be a shame to miss it just 

because I'm in a weird mood." He sipped at the stout again, 

then looked back at Doggett. What he really wanted was to 

be sitting with Doggett's arms around him, but he couldn't 

even ask for that under the circumstances. He hated having 

to hide it all, hated having to conceal and deny such an 

integral part of himself. 

 

If he were sitting here with a woman, any woman -- even one 

in Doggett's position -- no one would notice such a thing. 

It would be commonplace, expected that a man and a woman 

out together might hold each other. And yes, this was New 

York, and 'nobody' would notice, 'nobody' would care, but 

there was so much at risk, not the least of which was 

Doggett's job and his security clearance. If the Bureau 

found out -- Federal policies might state that they 

couldn't discriminate due to sexual orientation, but 

Federal policy meant nothing if someone was looking for an 

excuse. He knew Kersh was gunning for Doggett's ass, having 

stuck him in the basement to begin with. If nothing else, 

Byers' own history would make him a very questionable 

person to be sleeping with an FBI agent, and who knew what 

the shadows would do if they found out.

 

The lights went down and the Kit Kat Band began playing. He 

tried to lose himself in the music, but the whole theme of 

the show only pushed his silence and what he tried to hide 

about himself into his face. 

 

He wondered how Doggett could sit there so calmly, smiling 

and obviously enjoying the show. He envied the man's 

contentment in this environment, his easy willingness to 

take risks. Byers wondered why they were being so 

blatantly... together in public. This was nothing like 

going out for a beer with the guys, nothing like seeing a 

movie or going to dinner with them. It felt dangerous and 

forbidden.

 

Fraulein Schneider's 'What Would You Do?' ripped at his 

conscience. He did his best to expose the lies and the 

conspiracies that the government perpetrated, but what of 

the secrets he kept about himself? Was he really any less 

complicit than German Jews who denied their history and 

heritage, letting their people be dragged off to their 

deaths around them?

 

As the show continued, racing toward its inevitable prison 

camp conclusion, Byers wondered about the complicity of his 

own silence about his desires for men as well as women. 

Could he genuinely justify hiding like he did, when others 

were dying around him? Did being in the closet actually 

make him any safer from the powers behind the conspiracies, 

or would it simply make it easier for him to disappear 

during some covert pogrom? They were hard, disturbing 

questions. 

 

He finished his Guinness, sitting silent as the audience 

applauded at the curtain calls. Dinner would be a welcome 

relief. He found he didn't really want to think any more, 

at least not right now. He'd managed to work himself into a 

fairly ugly depression, and wasn't sure if more alcohol 

would help or make things worse. Frohike had told him more 

than once that he was a maudlin drunk. It probably meant 

that alcohol with dinner would just make things worse. 

Coffee was probably his best bet at this point.

 

THE PLAYWRIGHT TAVERN & RESTAURANT

10:00 PM

 

Finally seated in the second floor dining room, Doggett 

sighed and looked over at Byers. His companion had gone 

from uneasy to broody to depressed during the play. He 

realized that Cabaret probably wasn't the greatest idea 

he'd ever had, but he couldn't exactly have predicted the 

day's events when he made plans for the weekend.

 

"Johnny, I think we really need to talk."

 

Byers looked up at him, fear and disappointment in his 

eyes, as though he were expecting to be whacked on the nose 

with a rolled up newspaper.

 

Doggett shook his head. "It ain't what you're thinking," he 

said, offering a hand to Byers over the table.

 

Byers looked around, skittish, then reached out tentatively 

and took the offered hand. "How do you know what I'm 

thinking?" he asked.

 

"You look like you're expecting the big kiss-off or 

something. That's not what I want to say at all, okay?"

 

Byers relaxed visibly. He nodded. "Okay, you're right. That 

was what I thought was coming. I'm sorry."

 

Doggett nodded. "You don't need to apologize. This isn't 

your fault. You've been having a rough day since we ran 

into Munch at the library, and a play about the rise of the 

Third Reich wasn't exactly the most restful thing we coulda 

seen tonight. We should have just skipped it. I really wish 

you'd said something at the intermission when I asked. I'm 

not a mind reader."

 

Byers blushed and cast his eyes to the table as the server 

appeared. "It wasn't really the play, Jack. It was just... 

well... everything."

 

Doggett ordered coffee for both of them, along with the 

seafood salad. It didn't look like Byers needed another 

beer. At this point, Doggett was worried that it would just 

make Byers more depressed, and that he'd end up having to 

carry him from the elevator to their room. The last thing 

he wanted was a depressed, drunk, passed out bed partner. 

There was time enough for Byers to sober up before they got 

back, and he hoped that dinner and trying to talk through 

it might dig Byers out of his funk.

 

Byers opened his mouth, but Doggett cut him off. "I don't 

wanna hear the words 'I'm sorry' from you again tonight, do 

you understand?"

 

Byers blinked, then nodded. "Yes, Sir," he said quietly.

 

"No," Doggett said. "It's not Sir right now, it's Jack. 

You're... we're friends, John, and you don't have anything 

to apologize for right now. You need to understand that 

before we can really talk."

 

Byers looked up at him, curious. "Are you sure?"

 

Doggett held Byers' hand tight. "Yeah, I'm sure. How is it 

your fault for having a bad day?"

 

"I... I guess it isn't," Byers said.

 

Doggett nodded. "That's better." He sipped his coffee. "You 

know that I got no way of knowing what happened to you 

unless you talk to me about it, but from what you've said, 

I know it was pretty bad. You don't strike me as a guy who 

talks too much about what he's feeling, especially when you 

don't feel safe. I don't blame you." 

 

Byers tried to look away, but Doggett tugged on his hand 

and Byers looked back into his eyes. 

 

He continued. "But sometimes you have to, or you disappear. 

I know, Johnny. I've been there. I nearly got killed in 

Lebanon, and it took me a long time to get through that. 

Same with after Luke died." He paused, watching Byers 

holding his breath. "It's just looking like it's time for 

you to talk about whatever it is that's bugging you so 

much. Maybe not right now, over dinner, but tonight. Just 

think about it until we get back to the hotel, okay?"

 

Byers nodded, then gently pulled his hand away. "I'll think 

about it," he said with a heavy sigh. "Maybe you're right. 

I can't say I feel very safe, but maybe it is time."

 

"Is there something that would make you feel good to talk 

about?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers looked thoughtful for several minutes, then a tiny 

smile stretched his lips. "Yes, actually, there is." At 

that, he launched into a lengthy, enthusiastic, and 

complicated discussion of the story he'd been working on 

for the last two weeks; something involving nanotechnology 

that Doggett couldn't follow half of. 

 

After Doggett ordered dinner, he would interrupt Byers from 

time to time to ask questions, trying to understand what he 

was saying, and Byers would find other ways to explain 

things. Sometimes Doggett would ask Byers to go over a 

detail several times, and Byers would use different 

examples and analogies until he was able to grasp the 

complex concepts. By the time the rack of lamb had arrived, 

he was grateful for the silence while Byers ate, feeling 

like his brain had just run a marathon. Fortunately, the 

tactic had worked; Byers was much more cheerful now that he 

was focused on something he knew well and felt confident 

explaining. He also seemed almost entirely sobered up, 

probably from the combination of time and food. 

 

Doggett found himself astonished at Byers' technical and 

theoretical knowledge, and his patience in explaining the 

intricate, difficult aspects of his subject. While he might 

have the academic alphabet soup after his name, Byers' 

intellect was clearly a steep step above most other 

people's.

 

"Where the hell do you learn all this stuff, Johnny?" 

Doggett asked. "You seem to know all kinds of shit. And 

this -- this just blows me away. You actually got me to 

understand most of it."

 

Byers smiled shyly. "Like I said, I read a lot. I know how 

to look for things, and where. I was blessed with a good 

memory too, so it doesn't all slip away after I read it. 

Most people forget about 80 percent of what they read 

within a week or so of having read it, from what I 

understand. I don't. I mean, I don't have quite the eidetic 

memory Mulder does, but I think it's close. He tends to 

remember in a little more detail than I do. And I'm good at 

connecting the dots. I see patterns in data and information 

really well."

 

"You'd be a brilliant intelligence analyst, you know."

 

Byers shook his head and bit his lower lip. "They're all 

working for Them, Jack. I could never do that."

 

Doggett sighed. "You may be right about that."

 

"I'm sure of it. I'm not saying all of them are aware of 

it, but we both know where the information goes." Byers' 

eyes were fierce.

 

"I've got a pretty damned good guess, at least," Doggett 

conceded. Byers' fire and passion were intensely magnetic. 

It was hard to think when he looked like that. Doggett 

could feel the pulse in his wrists, his heart was beating 

so hard. Damn, the man was distracting. Byers, like this, 

was enough to make Doggett forget everyone, everything 

else. Good looking, brilliant, articulate, passionate, and 

very sexy, it would be hard to ask for more. Of course, 

Byers was also moody, paranoid, twitchy, neurotic, and 

distant. Doggett sighed. One thing he could say for shallow 

guys; they were a lot simpler to deal with.

 

"How's dinner?" Doggett asked.

 

Byers looked up from his plate, finishing his bite before 

he said anything. "It's really delicious. Thank you. This 

was a great idea."

 

Doggett smiled, relieved. The lamb was rich and tender, 

melting off the bone. "Save a little room for dessert," he 

said.

 

Byers gave a little smile. "Dessert?"

 

"How does Bailey's cheesecake sound?"

 

"Mmmmm." Byers grinned.

 

"I thought so," Doggett said. "You look like you're feelin 

better. How are you?"

 

Byers nodded. "Yeah, talking about the story helped get my 

head out of it. I needed that."

 

"You gonna be okay to talk when we get back to the hotel, 

do you think?"

 

Byers looked a little worried. "I'm not sure." He shifted 

uneasily in his seat. "I'll try, but I can't really promise 

anything."

 

Doggett stroked his fingers over the back of Byers' hand. 

"There's no guarantees in life. Trying is good enough for 

this, okay? I don't want to drag you back into it, I just 

want to try to understand what's going on with you."

 

"I appreciate that," Byers said, quiet. He lifted another 

bite of lamb to his mouth and paused. "I just can't help 

wondering why you even want to go through the effort, 

though. I mean, you've said yourself you don't usually see 

men for very long." He put the bite in his mouth and ate.

 

Doggett nodded. He looked over at Byers. "I know. But it 

wasn't from lack of trying." He took a deep breath and let 

it out. "It's different. You're different. Don't ask me to 

explain that, because I don't think I can, but... I'm lousy 

at this, Johnny, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that 

I don't want this to be over when we get back to DC. Hell 

if I know if anything's gonna come of it, and maybe it's 

not gonna last too long, but you're worth spending my time 

with. That's why I think you're worth the effort, okay?" He 

stuck a forkful of food in his mouth so he wouldn't have to 

say anything else.

 

"It was about closets," Byers said quietly.

 

"Huh?"

 

"At the play," Byers said. "I was thinking about closets, 

and complicity, and silence. About why I don't want to let 

anyone know this about me, why I've been so nervous when 

we're out in public together. I was thinking about how 

we're risking your job and how easy it would be for someone 

to use this... this time we're spending together against 

either of us."

 

Doggett nodded, understanding how easily the play could 

lead to thoughts like that. "Heavy stuff," he said. "You 

know the government has anti-discrimination policies about 

it."

 

"We both know those policies aren't worth the paper they're 

written on when somebody's looking for a reason to can 

you," Byers said.

 

Doggett nodded. "True enough."

 

Byers sighed. "And don't tell me you believe for an instant 

that the shadow government won't use anything they can get 

their hands on against either us if they're looking for a 

lever of some sort."

 

"I know," Doggett said. "That's why I keep a low profile at 

work. Clinton's whole military 'don't ask, don't tell' 

policy's cost more people their careers than when they were 

just beatin' up faggots because they felt like it."

 

"So does hiding even matter?" Byers asked. "Does it 

actually do anything to protect either of us, really?"

 

Doggett looked at him. He understood why Byers was feeling 

that way right now, but he also figured that there was a 

lot more to it than just this. "It's not like neither of us 

is doing anything to try to make the world a safer place. 

It's not like Berlin in the 30s. We're not sitting silent 

while people are being dragged away. You're trying to sound 

the horn, and I'm trying to enforce the laws that guarantee 

people their rights. In or out, we'd be doing the same 

things. Right now, I really just think it's easier for both 

of us to do our jobs if we don't let people know it's 

personal."

 

Byers' brow wrinkled. "I suppose that's true. But what 

would you do if somebody went to Kersh and suggested that 

you were being... indiscreet with a known felon." He looked 

away. "Like, say, me. Don't you think he'd try to use that 

against you?"

 

"At this point, I got no idea where Kersh stands, but he 

sure doesn't seem to be playing on a level field," Doggett 

said. "You're a damned good source though, and I doubt he'd 

be able to touch you. You and the guys provide some of the 

best tips that we get in our division. I don't think he's 

quite ready to toss my career down the shitter over 

something like that. If somebody did tell him, and he 

asked, I wouldn't deny it. Don't think I wouldn't document 

him askin' about it, either; if he tried to use that -- or 

you -- against me, I'd have his ass up before the Ombudsman 

on discrimination charges so fast he'd think I was 

Superman."

 

There was relief in Byers' eyes. "I guess I thought that 

since you weren't telling them, you might be vulnerable to 

blackmail."

 

Doggett chuckled. "I'm not tellin' 'em because it's none of 

their goddamned business who I sleep with. It's not so much 

my job I'm worried about, it's somebody trying to use you -

\- or anybody else I might be with -- to get to me. But the 

straight agents have to worry about the same shit, you 

know. Hell, you've seen what Mulder and Scully went 

through. You've know 'em both a lot longer than I have. You 

were there for all of it."

 

Byers nodded. "That's true. I guess I hadn't looked at it 

that way."

 

"Because you're paranoid, Johnny. You think everybody's out 

to get you, and anything could be a valid reason." Doggett 

shook his head. "And yeah, in your case, there are people 

out to get you, but I really don't think this has anything 

to do with it. I don't think we've got any immediate 

worries about the FBI. Now, the conspirators, that's 

another story. Unfortunately, with them, no matter how deep 

you hide, if they want to find out something about you they 

will, so again, in or out doesn't really matter, does it?"

 

Byers sat there, looking rather uncomfortable with the 

whole thing, but there was no sign of his dark mood 

returning. Doggett was relieved. He hoped that Byers might 

be able to let it go, at least for a while.

 

"I guess I'm too used to hiding," Byers said.

 

"More than likely. What about when you were married?" 

Doggett asked, trying to put it in perspective for Byers. 

"You were doing this back then. What did you do about all 

this stuff? Did you hide the fact you were married or 

something?"

 

"No," Byers replied. "I just took what precautions I could 

and hoped for the best. The apartment had good security in 

it. I kept on top of our privacy as much as possible, and 

the guys and I covered our tracks as carefully as we could 

at work."

 

"Same as anybody else with common sense," Doggett said, 

"except you're way better at the security and personal 

privacy stuff than most people." He looked into Byers' 

eyes. "The work we do, both of us, we run the risk of 

getting hurt sometimes. That doesn't mean either of us is 

gonna quit."

 

"I guess I have a lot to think about," Byers said quietly.

 

"Finish your dinner," Doggett said, gesturing with his 

fork. "It's gonna get cold. And I still want dessert."

 

Byers smiled and tucked into his dinner again.

 

PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL

ROOM 1246

NIGHT

 

"I mean, I know Langly and Skinner had to deal with some of 

this too," Doggett said as he closed the door behind them. 

"Have they been havin' any serious problems with it that 

you know of?"

 

Byers sighed. They were still talking about privacy and 

closets and risks, as they had been at dinner. Explaining 

Skinner's entanglements wasn't an easy task. "Not really," 

Byers said. "But I think Skinner's situation has been 

fundamentally different than yours, and he's higher up in 

the power structure. We suspect, but we're not sure, that 

he's got people in... powerful places that may be keeping 

an eye on him. There are some things he just never talks 

about, not even to Langly. I mean, Ringo's under the 

impression that Skinner doesn't talk at least partly to 

protect him. I think that may be true."

 

"He's had my back, Johnny. I trust Skinner." Doggett took 

his jacket off and tossed it over the back of the couch.

 

"So does Langly, at least most of the time," Byers said. 

"But that doesn't mean we don't keep an eye on him. He's 

been doing his best to distance himself from some of his 

more problematic contacts."

 

Doggett gave Byers a hard stare. "Just what kind of 

accusations are you making here?"

 

Byers shook his head as he headed for the bedroom. "I'm 

not, exactly. It's just... well, I don't think he would 

ever do anything to hurt Langly, ever. I know he's fought 

hard for Mulder and Scully over the years, and that 

sometimes it's been at the risk of his own life, but that's 

something you should discuss with Agent Scully, if she'll 

talk about it. But because of his position with the FBI, 

he's been in a very precarious situation on a number of 

occasions. We're fairly certain that at some point somebody 

in the conspiracy had their hooks into him. Mulder's seen 

the smoker coming out of Skinner's office. That man is 

seriously bad news. And I can tell you that Krycek used 

some of that nanotech I was talking to you about over 

dinner to kill him -- and bring him back."

 

"Krycek?"

 

"Our very own one-armed man." Byers shrugged out of his 

suit jacket and hung it up. "Alex Krycek, possibly also 

known as Valery Arntzen. We have no idea of his real name, 

his true agenda, or who he's working for. He's a wild card 

in all of this. He was a junior agent at the Bureau when 

Scully was missing for several months, and has been a 

serious and deadly thorn in Mulder's side ever since. Once 

in a while he actually does something helpful, but god only 

knows why. The information we've gotten from him has never 

been complete, but sometimes it's been enough to crack 

something open."

 

"Killed him and brought him back?"

 

"It's really complicated."

 

Doggett shook his head, looking doubtful. "It would have to 

be, wouldn't it?"

 

Byers looked over at Doggett and held his arms out to him. 

"Look, I'm not saying that Skinner is working at odds with 

us, just that he's been compromised in the past, and that 

he's still in constant danger. None of us knows who might 

try to pull his strings, or when. We keep an eye on him 

because we're trying to protect him, and he doesn't talk 

because he's trying to protect Ringo."

 

The anxiety in Doggett's face eased, and he went over and 

hugged Byers. "Skinner's one of the good guys," he said.

 

"I know," Byers said, leaning his head against Doggett's 

shoulder, arms around him. "All I'm saying is that there 

are a lot of issues that Ringo and Walter have to deal with 

that you and I don't, at least not directly. You're one of 

his agents, and he'll go to the wall for you if he can. But 

understand that there are forces working in his life that 

he can't talk about, and that may cause problems for you 

later. You need to be aware of this so that you can be 

prepared in case something happens. I don't want you 

getting blindsided." 

 

"So this is what you were hinting at when you said I should 

listen to Skinner about the whole supersoldiers thing, 

right?" Doggett asked, running a hand through Byers' hair.

 

"Yes." 

 

"Thanks for letting me know, then," Doggett said. He 

chuckled. "Skinner and Langly. I wonder what they look like 

when they fuck?"

 

Byers closed his eyes and blushed for all he was worth, 

trying not to picture Skinner with Langly. "I have no idea. 

I'm not sure I want to know." God, Langly... He took a deep 

breath.

 

"Skinner's pretty damned hot for a bald guy," Doggett said, 

smiling.

 

Byers shook his head. "Langly says he's... big." He turned 

in Doggett's arms and held his hands out, spread apart in 

an absurd indication of length.

 

Doggett raised an eyebrow. "Nobody's *that* big."

 

"Not according to Langly," Byers said. He chuckled.

 

"Johnny, you're weird." Doggett's voice was amused and 

affectionate.

 

Byers turned back into his Master's arms and pulled Doggett 

closer. Doggett tilted his chin up with one hand and kissed 

him. Byers melted against him, responding warmly. It had 

been a stressful day, and he was tired. More than anything, 

he really wanted the reassurance of physical contact. They 

breathed together, eyes closed, tongues slowly caressing. 

Doggett tasted of coffee and cheesecake, a comforting 

combination.

 

Doggett's strong hands caressed his shoulders and his upper 

back. It felt good, helping ease the lingering soreness 

from the previous night's activities, and his stress from 

the day. Byers sighed into their kiss. He regretted that 

this would be the last night they spent together here. He 

didn't know when they'd find another chance for more than a 

few hours stolen out of their complicated lives. Both of 

them were busy, and both ended up on the road more often 

than Byers liked.

 

Byers broke the kiss gently, moving his attention to 

Doggett's neck, while Doggett nibbled at his ear. The heat 

of his close breath sent a shudder down Byers' spine 

straight to his groin.

 

"You in the mood to play a little?" Doggett whispered.

 

Byers nodded, loosening Doggett's tie without taking his 

mouth from the soft, hot skin of his Master's throat. He 

moaned at the warmth of Doggett's hands roaming his body, 

loosening his own tie, tugging at the buttons on his shirt.

 

"Then stop undressing me," Doggett growled, low and rough, 

his hands still opening the buttons of Byers' silk shirt. 

"But you can keep doing that with your tongue." Doggett 

nipped at Byers' neck as Byers' tongue traced the inner 

edge of Doggett's ear.

 

"Mmmmmm..." Byers' hands fell away from Doggett's buttons 

and instead slid around the big man's back. He caressed the 

sapphire blue silk of Doggett's shirt, taking in the moving 

muscles of the strong body beneath. The combination of 

softness and rippling solidity stole his breath. He tilted 

his head back as Doggett's tongue slid, wet and demanding, 

from the hollow of his throat to the edge of beard at his 

chin and shivered. 

 

Doggett bit down sharp but soft at the top of Byers' 

throat, a wide hot presence across his neck, and Byers 

melted. "Uhhhhhhhhh!" Everything in him was at attention 

now; cock, nipples, his wildly beating heart. He felt 

Doggett catch his weight as his knees buckled, powerful 

arms bringing them body to body in a tight, erotic embrace.

 

Doggett sucked for a moment there, growling as Byers 

panted, his hands fisted into Doggett's shirt as his legs 

came back under him. "Let go," Doggett snapped, and Byers 

did. Doggett quickly pulled the shirt from Byers' body, 

then shoved him roughly to the bed. 

 

Byers could only moan in response, eyes closed, waiting for 

more. His shoes and socks were pulled off. Urgent hands at 

his belt, and his pants were stripped from him equally 

quickly, followed by his silk boxers, and he lay before his 

Master, naked and hard.

 

A moment later, Doggett rolled him onto his stomach and 

bound him with the leather wrist restraints. "Thank you, 

Sir," he whispered, tugging at them. He spread his legs for 

his Master.

 

Doggett's hand stroked his cheeks and a finger slipped 

along his crack from balls to spine, then vanished. "A very 

tempting sight, Johnny, but not what I want just yet." 

Doggett's voice was low and hot with desire. He rolled 

Byers onto his back again.

 

Byers opened his eyes, watching as Doggett kneeled next to 

him on the bed. His Master's eyes were dark, half closed 

and watching him as his breath caught. Doggett caressed 

Byers' chest and stomach with a palm, fingers following the 

curves of Byers' muscles and the hardness of his ribs. 

Byers sighed at his Master's sensual touch, arching up 

slightly as the hot palm crossed the peaks of his nipples. 

Doggett's fingers pinched and pulled, twisting, and Byers 

groaned deep in his chest, his eyes falling shut again.

 

The hand slipped away, replaced by the cold pinch of nipple 

clips, first on one sensitive nub, then the other. Byers 

cried out wordlessly, then gasped when Doggett sharply 

tugged the chain joining his nipples. His cock leaped at 

the sensation, steel hard with want, and he writhed on the 

bed.

 

"So beautiful, Johnny." He could hear the ache in Doggett's 

voice. "You're so hot like this."

 

"Mmmm... uh... more, Sir," Byers begged. 

 

"Oh, don't worry, there's more."

 

A hot hand on his shaft, and he could feel Doggett binding 

him with the cock and ball harness again, fastening the 

leather loops tight around him. Byers bucked into it, 

unable to resist the intensity of the dense, throbbing 

near-pain that pushed him to ecstasy without letting him 

fall into orgasm. He cried out again, and Doggett's broad 

hands stilled his moving hips. It was good, so good.

 

"Oh, yeah." Doggett's low voice was almost a purr.

 

Doggett's hot mouth explored him, wet and soft, lips and 

tongue and nipping teeth, from his forehead to the bridges 

of his feet as Byers moaned and writhed. Torturously gentle 

hands slid along his skin, teasing his sides, his abdomen, 

the ticklishly sensitive insides of his thighs. He couldn't 

form words, not even coherent syllables, as Doggett drove 

him deep into his submissive space. It was bliss, giving 

himself to his Master's will and his powerful body. Byers 

was empty of everything but lust and desire, and the need 

to submit. In this space, even his immense physical and 

emotional vulnerability didn't frighten him; it only drove 

him deeper.

 

He felt Doggett's arms slide under him and lift him up, and 

he opened his eyes. He was barely conscious of being 

carried until he was set gently on his knees, his head and 

shoulders resting in a chair in the living room of their 

suite.

 

Doggett's hand rested for a moment between his shoulder 

blades. "Close your eyes, Johnny, and wait here for me."

 

Byers did as he was told, trembling with anticipation and 

need.

 

Some time later -- it could have been a minute or an hour, 

Byers didn't know -- he heard Doggett return. There was the 

crinkle of a foil packet, and a tearing sound; was Doggett 

putting a condom on? His Master's hands roamed his back and 

his ass, smooth fingers, blunt nails, broad palms caressing 

and scratching him. A tug on the chain dangling from his 

nipples shot pleasure through him with a shock, and he 

yelped. It left him gasping.

 

The first slap of his Master's hand stung his ass, and he 

shouted, "Ahh -- yes!" Byers was panting hard now, his 

entire body tingling from his Master's constant touch. His 

dick ached, it was so hard and bound so tightly, but that 

felt good too. He needed this, needed to carry it home with 

him for the god-knew-how-long it would be until he could 

have it again. 

 

He could hear Doggett's rough breath behind him, coming 

hard and fast. "You want more, don't you, slut?"

 

"Yes, Sir. Please, Sir." Byers could hear the whine in his 

panting, shaky voice and didn't care. If it pleased his 

Master, if it brought more of the harsh pleasure, his 

dignity meant nothing.

 

The slaps fell harder and harder until Byers was sweating, 

his ass radiating heat, and then a new sensation; the soft 

leather strands of the flogger slid over his burning flesh. 

Doggett made their motion a soft caress, a tingle and a 

tickle and a decadent gentleness that was pure torment in 

Byers' deep, frantic arousal.

 

"Do you want it?" Doggett asked, his voice harsh and 

rumbling. 

 

"Please, Sir," Byers groaned.

 

"Convince me," Doggett said.

 

With a sound that was half a sob, Byers begged. "Make me 

burn, Sir -- hit me. God, I'm so hard, please, I need it." 

He could hear Doggett's breathing grow deeper, more 

aroused. "I'm aching for it, Sir, please, hit me, let me 

feel your power in it --"

 

The leather strands fell, the sharp snap stinging across 

one cheek, then the other. Byers wanted to come so badly he 

could taste it. He felt Doggett's body close to his again, 

and his Master pulled at the chain on his nipples, applying 

a steady pressure as the flogger struck him again, then 

again. Byers shouted, gasping, then let out a long, low 

moan as the pull on his nipples continued.

 

"Yes," Doggett groaned, striking Byers again. "Let me hear 

you," he commanded. "Let me hear that sound."

 

Byers let the sound continue, falling from his lips with 

each breath, torn from his soul as the blows came, hard and 

delicious. He loved the feel of the leather falling on his 

ass, but the pain in his nipples was building, and he soon 

he was shaking from it.

 

"Yellow," he moaned.

 

He could feel Doggett pull the next blow, slashing by in 

the air next to him, and releasing the chain he held. "What 

do you need?" His Master's voice was in his ear, soft and 

concerned, a gentle hand on his back. "Are you all right, 

Johnny?"

 

Byers panted and nodded. "Clips... too much..."

 

Doggett's hands loosened the clips slowly, removing them 

with care. The returning circulation sent a bright shaft of 

pain into them and Byers shuddered and hissed, a tear of 

pain leaking from his eye. His Master's hot palms rested on 

his chest, covering and soothing the aching nubs.

 

"Is that better?" Doggett asked a moment later. His clothed 

body covered Byers, comforting; his hard rod pressed 

against the back of Byers' thigh.

 

Byers nodded, still panting, close to the edge. Feeling his 

Master like this only made him want more.

 

"Are you sure?"

 

"Yes, Sir," Byers whispered. "Everything else... okay... 

that was just a little too much."

 

Doggett kissed him, licking the tear from his skin. "Good, 

Johnny," he whispered. "Always tell me. Do you want the 

flogger again?"

 

Byers nodded again. "Please, Sir, I'm so close. I need 

more. Make me come, please. I want to come for you."

 

He could feel the heat of Doggett's breath on his neck as 

his Master chuckled. "You will, Johnny, oh, you will. I'll 

give that to you in time." His Master took a breath. 

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, "what you give me is 

so beautiful." Doggett kissed his neck, then rose and 

caressed Byers' ass with his hand again. 

 

A gentle slap with a hand, and then the flogger fell once 

more. Byers gritted his teeth and groaned loudly. "Ohhhhhh, 

please..."

 

Doggett brought the flogger down again and again, and Byers 

bucked into the air under him, crying out with need. The 

only thing keeping him from release was the tight harness 

binding his cock, separating his balls. He could feel it 

building in him, fever and intense pressure, his body 

glistening with sweat. He struggled with the restraints at 

his wrists, needing to move, his body unable to contain the 

raw, animal passion burning in him.

 

"Do you want the belt, Johnny?" Doggett's voice was 

straining, panting.

 

"Fuck me, Sir," Byers groaned, "please!" His ass was 

blazing, his cock pounding and about to burst, and he 

needed to be filled like he needed to breathe. Everything 

in him was focused, laser sharp, every nerve screaming for 

release.

 

Doggett quickly slicked Byers' opening, sliding a lubed 

finger in and out of him before he could react, then took 

his arms and lifted him to his feet. "Oh, yeah. God, you're 

so ready." 

 

Byers felt himself pulled around, then down into Doggett's 

lap. His Master's hands spread Byers' legs over his own, 

laying him wide open, and pulled him back into Doggett's 

chest. It was like Friday, at the club, and his raw, 

burning ass felt his Master's shaft in the crack, hot and 

slick, the latex tight around his thickness.

 

"Yes," Byers gasped. "Please, Sir, I need you in me, fuck 

me, please..."

 

Doggett's hands lifted his ass, settling Byers over the 

blunt tip of his cock. "Remember Friday?" Doggett growled, 

"remember Sergio begging me to fuck you in front of him?"

 

Byers shouted and struggled to push himself down on his 

Master's thick rod. "Yes! Yes, Sir, please!" He could see 

Brentali, feel the man's hands on his skin, hear his voice 

begging Doggett to fuck Byers while he watched. It burned 

in him like a solar flare. God, he wanted it more than he'd 

ever wanted anything, wanted Doggett inside him.

 

"This is what I wanted to do to you," Doggett snapped, and 

shoved his well-slicked shaft into Byers to the root with 

one hard, fast stroke.

 

Byers howled as Doggett drove into him, his Master's hands 

loosening the harness on his cock and balls. He came with 

his Master thrusting into him deep and hard, fucking him 

mercilessly, still growling in his ear.

 

"This is what I wanted to show him," Doggett gasped, "what 

I wanted to give you. You're mine, Johnny, mine." Doggett's 

hips rocked into him, fierce, and Byers kept coming, 

gasping and crying with the intensity of his release. His 

Master's hands were everywhere on his body, moving fast and 

pressing into him hard with the force of his own orgasm. 

 

Doggett shouted and spasmed under Byers, driving in harder, 

biting his shoulder and stroking Byers' throbbing, spurting 

cock. Byers' head thrashed, bumping against Doggett's 

shoulder as he lost all sense of himself. Only burning 

bliss was left.

 

Gasping and shuddering, they spiraled down from the 

heights. Their hearts were pounding staccato rhythms, eyes 

closed, mouths open as their motion slowed.

 

Doggett held Byers' body against him. He was dizzy, and 

Byers' tight, sweet ass was still squeezing him hard. His 

fist was still around Byers' shaft and their chests were 

heaving together. Byers was starting to go limp in his 

arms, moaning quietly. He'd probably have to carry him back 

to bed, once he thought his own legs would be steady enough 

to bear their weight.

 

It was obvious to him that if he ever had the chance, he'd 

have to get together with Brentali to play with Byers. His 

sub's reaction to the idea was intense, and it was easy 

fantasy fuel. His own reaction to the idea of taking Byers 

in front of Brentali was a strong one, and there was no 

real reason not to follow up on it at some point. He knew 

Brentali would be enthusiastic about it. Friday night had 

been more than enough evidence.

 

He looked down to Byers' shoulder, pleased that he hadn't 

drawn blood or left a serious bruise. With one trembling 

hand, he caressed the spot gently.

 

Finally able to breathe well enough to speak, he kissed 

Byers' ear softly. "How are you doing, Johnny?" he asked 

quietly.

 

Byers was still coming down from full-body shakes. 

"Unnh..." was all he managed, but it was a content sound. 

Doggett chuckled and squeezed him tight, still buried in 

his body.

 

Carefully, Doggett loosened his arms. Byers lay slumped 

against him, head lolling back on his shoulder. He slid his 

hands between them, separating the wrist restraints, and 

pulled Byers' hands in front of them. There was no need for 

the bondage now, and they would both be more comfortable 

this way while they rested. He unbuckled the harness and 

removed it from his sub's cock and balls completely, and 

for once, Byers didn't even whimper about it. Doggett had 

fastened it more tightly this time than he had before, 

after seeing how much Byers liked it. 

 

With a gentle hand, Doggett caressed Byers' softening 

shaft.

 

"Sweet," Byers whispered.

 

Doggett grinned. "It lives."

 

Byers' head shook gently as he rested it on Doggett's 

shoulder. "No it doesn't," he muttered. "I think it shot 

its last load."

 

Doggett laughed quietly. "I hope not."

 

"For tonight, anyway," Byers said. He was still trying to 

catch his breath. "You're still in me," he whispered. "God, 

feels good."

 

"Mmm," Doggett replied, "not much longer though." His pants 

were going to be a mess. He'd have to have the suit cleaned 

when he got back to D.C., as there wasn't enough time for 

the hotel to have it done before they'd have to be up in 

the morning. They were booked on an early commuter flight 

so they'd be back in time for Doggett to be at the Hoover 

Building for work. They'd have to get to bed soon.

 

Doggett slid his hands under Byers. "Pick your ass up a 

little. I need to pull out of you."

 

Byers grumbled but did so, his legs shaky. Doggett grabbed 

the end of the condom and slipped out of him gently.

 

"Wish you didn't have to do that," Byers muttered.

 

Doggett kissed his cheek as he pulled the full condom off 

himself. "Me too, but it's done now. We need to go get 

cleaned up and get into bed."

 

Byers closed his eyes and groaned. "Do we have to?"

 

"What, go to bed?"

 

"No, get up right now."

 

Doggett grinned. "You're gonna be asleep in about three 

seconds if we don't, and you know it."

 

"Wanna sleep here." Byers pouted his lips.

 

"Oh, don't even try that shit on me, boy," Doggett said, 

laughing. He poked his hips up under Byers, jostling him. 

"Get your skinny ass outta my lap so I can get this messy 

suit off. You came all over the place."

 

Byers looked over at him and blushed. "I'm --"

 

"Don't even say it," Doggett said, a warning tone in his 

voice.

 

Byers looked sheepish and leaned forward with a groan. 

Doggett put a hand on his back to steady him. After a 

moment, Byers rose to his feet. 

 

Doggett could see how red his sub's ass was. The stripes 

stole his breath. If he hadn't just come, they would have 

aroused him again. He ran a hand lightly along the smooth 

roundness of each cheek, then slid his arm around Byers' 

waist and pulled him close. He kissed the still-hot flesh 

gently.

 

Byers sighed. "That was so good," he said, quiet, a tiny 

shiver running through his muscles.

 

"You're so hot, Johnny," Doggett whispered, letting him go. 

 

Byers turned to him. "So are you." A tiny, shy smile curved 

his lips.

 

Doggett's heart skipped a beat, and he smiled back with a 

contented sigh. God, what Byers did to him should be a 

federal felony. He rose, sliding his arm around Byers' 

waist, and they went to clean up.

 

~~end chapter 3 of 4~~


	4. Monday

WK2: Armani Weekend

Chapter 4: Monday

 

PARKER MERIDIEN HOTEL

ROOM 1246

MONDAY MORNING

4:00 AM

 

Byers was groggy when the alarm went off. He thought they 

might have managed three and a half hours of sleep, but 

wasn't sure. Actually, he didn't even want to know. What he 

wanted was to go back to sleep with Doggett's arms around 

him, but the man was stirring next to him.

 

With a huge yawn, Doggett stretched. "Mornin'," he mumbled.

 

"It can't be morning yet," Byers complained, "the birds 

aren't awake." He yawned as well, stretching, then wrapped 

himself back around Doggett's solid body.

 

Doggett's arms curled around him, holding him close. "No, 

but anybody who wants to be on our flight back to D.C. has 

to be. You can sleep on the plane." He nuzzled his nose 

into Byers' hair and sucked on his ear.

 

Byers sighed. He moved his head and looked into Doggett's 

tired eyes. "We don't have time."

 

"I know." There was regret in Doggett's voice. "Doesn't 

mean I can't want to."

 

Byers nodded. "I guess we'll have to settle for saving 

water."

 

Doggett chuckled quietly. "I guess."

 

Byers reached up and caressed Doggett's cheek. "Thank you." 

He kissed Doggett softly.

 

"I'm glad you came," Doggett said. "It was a good weekend."

 

Byers smiled and lowered his eyes. "I really did enjoy it. 

I can't believe you actually did all this for me. It must 

have cost a fortune."

 

"Only a little one," Doggett said, returning the smile. "I 

think it was well spent." He slid a hand along Byers' back, 

over the curve of his cheek, and around to his hip. "But we 

gotta get out of bed and get ready to go."

 

Byers groaned and rolled over, tossing the light covers 

back. He sat and slid his feet to the floor. "I get the 

bathroom first," he said.

 

"What is this, a competition?" Doggett asked, looking up at 

him.

 

Byers chuckled. "Years of habit. You live with Langly long 

enough, you learn you have to get to the bathroom before he 

does, or he uses all the hot water washing his hair."

 

Doggett laughed. "I thought we were gonna share the 

shower?"

 

Byers looked down at him, arms crossed over his chest. 

"That doesn't mean I want you in the bathroom while I'm 

taking a piss." That was something Byers honestly found 

embarrassing. He was far too shy to relieve himself in 

front of anyone under anything approaching normal 

circumstances. He may have spent more time than he ever 

wanted to in city and county jails over the years, forced 

to do his duty in public, but it didn't mean he had to let 

anyone violate his privacy when he had any choice in the 

matter.

 

Doggett shook his head, still laughing. "Okay, not a 

problem. You go first."

 

It wasn't long before they were in the shower together. 

Byers found himself moving a little more slowly than usual, 

despite their deadline. It was his last chance to see 

Doggett like this, nude and relaxed, muscles rippling 

powerfully under his skin. His last chance to touch him 

with nothing between them. He didn't know if they'd be 

together again, no matter what Doggett had said. There had 

been too many broken promises in his life, too many 

disappointments. He would cherish this for what it had 

been, and drink in the last moments of it, because the 

future was uncertain and words were never sure.

 

He wanted to believe Doggett, still wanted to trust him, 

but the paranoid cables knotting his guts wouldn't let him. 

Last night had been reassuring though, particularly when 

Doggett had listened when he'd asked to slow things down. 

He was genuinely beginning to believe that Doggett actually 

respected him. If respect was all that came with the 

pleasures he'd had, it was still a good thing, and more 

than he had really hoped for. It was more than he got from 

most people.

 

After they washed, they stood under the hot water, holding 

each other, sharing a deep kiss. When they were dry, before 

they dressed, they did again. As they packed, their bodies 

brushed against each other, and before they stepped out the 

door of their room, after the final check of all the 

drawers and tables and closets, one last embrace and a 

hard, sensual kiss. They would have no more privacy, no 

more opportunity.

 

"When we have time," Doggett said, "I do want to see you 

again. We won't be able to do anything like this again for 

a long time, but I still want to spend time with you. I 

mean it. More than just coffee or lunch." He looked into 

Byers' doubting eyes. The doubt bothered him. "Maybe you 

could come to my place for the night sometimes when we're 

not both buried in work."

 

"I'd like that," Byers said quietly. That tiny smile of his 

appeared again, and Doggett felt something in himself 

lighten. Seeing it meant something to him.

 

They checked out and left the hotel, grabbing a cab to the 

airport. Doggett watched Byers during the trip. Both of 

them were tired, not saying much. He was pretty sure Byers 

would sleep on the plane. The bearded man looked exhausted. 

In fact, he spent most of the cab ride leaning on Doggett's 

shoulder, half asleep.

 

Doggett slid an arm around Byers as he leaned, knowing the 

cab driver didn't give a shit. Byers was too tired to 

protest, and just lay his head against Doggett and rested.

 

As Doggett paid the driver at the airport and he and Byers 

hauled their luggage out of the trunk, something in the 

crowd caught his eye. He blinked and looked more closely, 

not sure of what he'd seen -- not wanting it to be what 

he'd thought.

 

It was.

 

Knowle Rohrer was standing down the concourse. There was a 

newspaper in his hands. Doggett was sure he'd seen Rohrer 

looking their way before he'd looked back down at the 

paper.

 

Shit.

 

Cold fear gripped Doggett's gut. If his suspicions were 

correct, and Rohrer was one of the supersoldiers, they 

could be in over their heads in a bad way. He wondered how 

long Rohrer had been shadowing them, and if the man had 

identified Byers. The last thing he wanted was to endanger 

his companion.

 

Suddenly, he realized that Byers had been right. They 

hadn't been paranoid enough. He saw the shy man's 

insistence on keeping their expressions of affection 

private in a very different light. Blackmail, Byers had 

said, was only a minor worry -- it was being used against 

his friends or murdered that were his real fears. Doggett's 

understanding of the hacker's paranoia, and his wisdom, 

deepened.

 

Nervous, he hurried Byers through the crowd to the security 

checkpoint. He wondered if he should tell the man what he'd 

seen. He spotted Rohrer once more as they passed through 

security, but lost track of him in the crowd. Why was 

Rohrer here? Why was he in New York at all, and how long 

had he been here? It might be a big city, but his presence 

was too unnerving for Doggett to consider it a coincidence.

 

If he didn't tell Byers, and the man found out, he'd never 

earn his trust. He knew he couldn't keep this disturbing 

fact from him. Unfortunately, Byers was probably his best 

bet for finding out why Rohrer had been in New York, and 

for how long.

 

At the gate, he looked around again, scanning the crowd.

 

"Is everything okay?" Byers asked, looking sleepy but 

puzzled. "You've been rushing us to the gate, and you look 

like you're looking for someone.

 

Doggett sighed. "We've got trouble. We're being tailed."

 

Byers stiffened, still exhausted, but alert. He scanned the 

crowd as well. "By whom?"

 

"Guy named Knowle Rohrer. Used to be a buddy of mine back 

in the Marines. He's the one who set me and Mulder up, 

tried to get us killed, when you guys were trying to hack 

the Census Bureau records a while back. I'm not sure, 

but..." Doggett paused, nervous.

 

"But what?"

 

"I think he may be one of the supersoldiers."

 

Byers' eyes widened. "What do you think he wants?"

 

Doggett shook his head. "No idea. Maybe it has something to 

do with those files you guys got for me last month."

 

"Damn. Maybe there's something here in the City, and he 

thinks you're on to it? Do you think he knows we're here 

together?" Byers asked softly. He shuddered.

 

Doggett grimaced. "I'm pretty sure he saw us getting out of 

the cab together, and I saw him when we were passing 

through security, so yeah, he knows we're traveling 

together at least. I don't know if he knows who you are, 

though. I sure as hell hope not." The thought of Rohrer 

identifying Byers twisted Doggett's gut.

 

"God, I'm glad we're going home," Byers said, tense and 

anxious.

 

Doggett laid a hand on his shoulder. "When we get back to 

DC, we'll need to find out what we can about what he's 

doing here and why."

 

Byers nodded. "I know."

 

"But there's nothin' we can do until we get home anyway 

except keep an eye out for him until we get on the plane. I 

know you're still really tired. I want you to at least try 

to sleep once we're off the ground," Doggett said.

 

Byers sighed, still scanning the crowd. "I may have to. 

I've been having trouble keeping my eyes open since we got 

out of the shower. I don't like it, though. This bothers 

me. A lot."

 

"You're not the only one."

 

As soon as their row was called for boarding, they hurried 

to the plane, Doggett staying a few steps behind Byers to 

keep watch. He hadn't seen Rohrer again, much to his 

relief. It was vaguely possible that Rohrer's presence was 

a coincidence, but Byers didn't seem to believe in any such 

thing.

 

"Once may be chance, twice might be a coincidence, but 

three times is definitely a conspiracy," 

Byers observed as they climbed the stairs into the small 

plane.

 

"This time, I don't think it's your paranoia talking," 

Doggett conceded as they sat and buckled themselves into 

their seats. "But let's at least try to leave it for now. 

He's not on the plane with us, and he's really unlikely to 

make it back to DC before we get there."

 

Byers nodded. "That's a relief, at least."

 

When the plane was in the air, Doggett saw Byers relax, the 

tension sliding slowly away. The drone of the engines 

covered the conversations around them, and they had some 

feeling of privacy, at least to talk.

 

For a little while, Byers looked uneasy, as though he 

wanted to say something, but couldn't find a way to 

approach it.

 

"Did you want to talk about something, Johnny?" Doggett 

asked.

 

Byers looked over at him and blushed. "Uh... actually, yes 

I did." He turned his eyes down to his hands, folded in his 

lap.

 

"It's okay to talk to me, you know."

 

"It's more of a question, really."

 

Doggett touched his arm gently then drew his hand away. 

"What's on your mind?"

 

Byers shifted uncomfortably, clearly struggling with 

whatever it was. "It's... well, I kinda wanted to ask you 

something about when we were... at the club Friday."

 

Doggett leaned back into his seat. "Something about 

Sergio?" His curiosity was definitely piqued.

 

Byers shook his head. "No, actually. Something else 

entirely. It's... I guess there are things about the whole 

idea that I don't understand. Maybe this'll sound like a 

really weird question." Byers paused again.

 

"Well, I won't know until you ask."

 

"There was a man there, at the club," Byers said uneasily, 

"when we first went in. He was lying there on the floor, 

wearing a collar and a leash, and nothing else. It was like 

he was being a dog, lying at this guy's feet. I guess... I 

guess I don't get that. I mean, why would somebody want to 

be treated like a dog? What would he get out of that? It 

doesn't even seem like it would be about sex, you know?"

 

Doggett looked at Byers and sighed, thinking for a minute. 

"Well, I guess the best way to answer that would be to ask 

you why you want what you want? Why do you want to let me 

do the things to you that you let me do? You know it 

doesn't make sense to other people. You told me that your 

ex didn't understand at all. So why do you want it?"

 

They looked at each other for a moment, silent.

 

Byers looked down at his hands again, deep in thought. He 

started to say something several times, but stopped 

himself, thinking about it more. Eventually, he looked up 

at Doggett. "I'm not sure I can really explain it," he 

said. "I don't think I have the words to articulate what I 

feel. It's like... it's sort of like how the moon pulls the 

ocean into tides. There's this force inside me. It's deeper 

than just wanting something, deeper than a need. There's 

something... primal about it."

 

He took a deep breath and looked away from Doggett. When he 

spoke, his voice was quieter, barely audible over the 

engine noise. "After Doreen, I wondered if I should want, 

or need, or be... drawn to something like that. Her 

attitude was that a man shouldn't want to be tied up or 

dominated or penetrated. That a man should want power, want 

to be in control. I've run into that attitude in a lot of 

places. I guess it left me wondering if I really was much 

of a man."

 

Doggett reached out and touched Byers' cheek gently. "You 

are, Johnny. Believe me. I've got no question at all about 

your manhood. It takes an incredible amount of courage to 

do the things you do in your work. You're not a coward, 

and you're sure as hell not a wuss. What you want to do for 

your pleasure has nothing to do with bein' a man or not. 

The scene's not that simple, and it never has been. A lot 

of really powerful, in control guys are subs when they're 

not in the office."

 

Byers looked over at Doggett again. "Well, what about you? 

Is it different, being a Dom?"

 

Doggett shook his head. "I've been a sub, Johnny. It's the 

same for me, whether I'm the top or the bottom. It's not 

something I can really talk about rationally. They're 

things you understand with your body, not your mind. It's 

about gut feelings. It's about what makes your blood hot 

and your dick stand up and what makes you scream when you 

come. That's stuff from before we were even human, about 

territory and animal instincts and hormones."

 

"I always preferred answers with words," Byers said. "I 

need to have definitions, Jack. I mean, I get what you're 

saying, but I still wish I could explain it."

 

"I don't think anybody can explain it anymore than they can 

explain why some of us aren't 'just' gay or straight," 

Doggett said. He chuckled. "All this 'gay gene' stuff, it 

doesn't leave any room for you or me, does it?"

 

Byers snorted. "No, not really." He pulled the arm rest up 

from between their seats and tucked it between the seat 

backs, then leaned into Doggett. Shifting his weight for a 

moment, he found a comfortable position. "And that's 

another thing I have no answer for, but I guess I was more 

comfortable contemplating that question because it didn't 

bother me as much."

 

Doggett slid his arm around Byers. "When you get right down 

to it, it's really just about what turns you on. All of it, 

whether you're talking about kinks or who you sleep with."

 

Byers yawned and settled against him. "God, I'm so tired."

 

"So sleep." The words were gentle and indulgent. Doggett 

leaned his cheek against Byers' head.

 

Byers sighed. It was probably a good idea. By the time he 

got home, the guys would be up and working on the upcoming 

issue. He was sure he'd have to give them some kind of trip 

report about his weekend. He hadn't really been ready to 

tell them he was going away with Doggett, but he couldn't 

exactly keep it hidden from them either. It wasn't like 

they wouldn't be able to figure it out on their own, so 

he'd told them as he headed out the door on Friday. There 

would be teasing and questions and explanations, and the 

inevitable questions from Jimmy that would probably require 

a sports analogy and single syllable words to answer. He 

needed to be in a condition at least vaguely resembling 

alertness to deal with it. 

 

And Rohrer. He'd have to tell the guys about Rohrer, and 

they would need to start looking into him fast. He yawned 

again. It was comfortable, leaning on Doggett's broad 

chest, resting his head against the man's shoulder. He was 

too tired to care that people could see Doggett had his arm 

around him, and too comfortable in the warmth of that 

embrace to fret. He'd worry later.

 

Doggett raised his head and looked down at Byers as the 

slender man fell asleep. The weekend had been eye-opening 

in so many ways. Rohrer's appearance, and his reaction to 

it, his desire to keep Byers out of harm's way, had gotten 

him thinking about what Brentali had said at breakfast 

Saturday. 

 

Talking to Brentali had left him questioning his own 

motives about Byers, about what he'd offered the man. Being 

with Byers had made Doggett think more about his needs and 

desires than he had in years, and not just because Byers 

had been questioning his own. There was much more going on 

here than he'd thought when he first suggested that they 

play together.

 

He'd been in and out of brief relationships for a long 

time, before and after his marriage. Most of them hadn't 

meant too much. Doggett had always been hesitant to get too 

involved outside of the game. It was mostly about 

satisfying his sexual needs, about mutual pleasure, and 

sometimes, if a guy seemed okay, about trying to stay 

together for a while. He really had tried, a few times.

 

With Byers, though, he thought about so much more. Yeah, 

the sex was good -- really good. But so many times over the 

weekend he found himself thinking about other things, 

wondering what was going on in the man's head, finding 

himself wanting Byers' trust more than he'd wanted it from 

other men. It felt different; important. Little things took 

on a life of their own. Byers was a man he could respect, a 

man he could trust; he was an honorable and decent man, 

even if he was a little odd. Doggett realized that he 

cared.

 

Maybe... maybe Brentali was right. He sighed and stroked 

the face of the shy, nervous man sleeping in his arms.

 

Maybe this thing with Byers was a lot more serious than he 

thought.

 

~~end chapter 4 of 4~~

 

**fin**


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